Sleight of Hand

Our final day in Delaware began with the usual gallons of tea and coffee. Molly resurrected the Valley Garden Park cicada shell from the day before yesterday and adorned herself appropriately.

Then, some last errands. First stop: the jewelry store to drop off Ma’s 50-year-old Swiss watch to be fixed and to buy a chain for her rabbit charm. We also brought in the fancy necklace that Dad had given her for their 50th wedding anniversary. Ma has left it to me in her will, but I’d never wear something like that, as pretty as it is, so we looked into selling it. Turns out it would bring in very little, so the salesperson suggested chopping it apart and transforming it into some rings or pendants, perhaps one each for Ma, Eleni, Molly and me. But that’s pricy, so for now, back into its box it went, and chances are it will remain there, intact, into eternity.

[The next three photos are courtesy of Lulu.]

Then, back to the grocery store for chocolate flake mint ice cream and airplane snacks, and finally to the car wash. It makes Ma nervous to drive through on her own because of having to maneuver the driver-side tire into that narrow trough.

On our return we had another Zoom video chat with our Chico family. I think it’s hard for Eleni to see us all together, without her. She wishes she were here too. But three young kids (an active 10-year-old, a spirited and autistic 6-year-old, and an infant)—combined with her terror of flying—make a trip eastward unviable. We miss her.

For dinner Ma prepared her signature dish, Chicken Cave Creek: boneless breasts dredged in butter, coated with bread crumbs and cheddar, splashed with vermouth, and baked. To satisfy her California family’s needs and preferences, this time the recipe was gluten-free and the chicken was organic and free-range. It was wonderful.

As we took our last bites, we tuned into a New York-based interactive magic show that Molly’s company had arranged on Zoom for its employees. (Their families were welcome, too.) I was reluctant to watch because I’m not interested in that sort of act, but I didn’t want to be a stick-in-the-mud so I joined Molly and Small in front of the screen. I was immediately entranced. Unfortunately, the young magician’s name was Dan White, but of course he was nothing like the one of George Moscone, Harvey Milk and Twinkie defense fame. Before the show, he’d sent Molly and all other participants a mystery box to remain unopened until further instruction. Time and again, he performed seemingly miraculous feats. Possibly the most dramatic—at the show’s conclusion, not surprisingly—involved a deck of cards. He singled out one woman to follow along with the process, while every other observer did so behind the scenes. Specifying a complex sequence of instructions to randomize the order of each person’s cards, he then asked everyone to dispose of them in a series of prescribed steps until at last there was only one left. Molly ended up with the 10 of clubs. He held up his card: a queen of diamonds. It did in fact match that of the spotlighted woman, but not of anyone else. There seemed to be a momentary collective air of disappointment. But wait: we needed to perform one final action: pick up the box that had been sent to each person and pull on an attached ribbon. Out popped a single card. In our case… the ten of clubs. Every other person in the audience also got a duplicate of their selected card. I’ve thought and thought about it and still it makes absolutely no sense.

Afterwards, Molly and I packed and checked our flight information. Once again, American has moved us to different seats, away from each other. Mine is three inches narrower than the seat I’d had.

It will be sad to leave Small tomorrow.