“Papa,” said Jean, pulling her father back to the present. “A few of your friends have invited you to dinner.” Jean handed him an invitation from the pile of mail. “You should go.”
“No,” Sam said. “They’ll only expect me to be funny. And I’m not anymore.”
“Mother wouldn’t want you to shut yourself up in the house,” Jean said.
“Tell them I’m just too old and tired,” Sam said.
“But Papa . . .”
Sam hit the table with his fist. “I don’t want to see anyone!”
Jean and Katy exchanged a look.
“As you say, Mr. C.,” Katy said, dishing out the ice cream. Sam cleared his throat. “Since Clara can’t be with us, we’ll have her Bambino stand in for her,” he said, giving a saucer of ice cream to the cat.
Bambino rubbed his head against Sam’s hand, blinked his eyes, and then lapped up his treat.
Copyright © 2012 by P.I. Maltbie (Author); Daniel Miyares (Illustrator). All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.