He felt that he was making progress.
"Excuse me." The elderly woman who had been directly in front of him as
they walked around the room was blocking his way. "Are you Arthur
Wells? Dr. Arthur Wells?"
"Why, yes." He raised his eyebrows modestly.
"Forgive me for intruding," she said. "My niece insisted that I ask.
She saw you last week when she picked me up. She thinks she had a
seminar with you once."
"Oh dear. I hope I wasn't difficult. What is your niece's name?"
"Pookie."
Arthur's mouth filled with the taste of anchovies.
"Pookie," he said. "Really? Your niece. Some time ago, I think." The
woman waited. "Pookie, umm--her last name?"
"Willet, now. It _was_ Kennecutt."
"Yes, of course! I remember now," Arthur said, falsely triumphant. "I
thought she had great promise." He tossed his hands. "But--life--who
knows?" He smiled acceptance.
"She married an idiot."
"Ah," Arthur said. She hadn't married Penn, at any rate.
"On the positive side, they have two wonderful children."
Only children don't get to be uncles. "Lucky Auntie," Arthur said. "Do
give her my best. There's biology and then there's _biology_."
"Yes," she said. "Well, I must be going." Arthur watched her leave,
wishing for a drink of water. He was fifteen years older than Penn, and
Penn was a lot older than Pookie; it was absurd to be jealous. They did
make a handsome couple. At least they had the one time they'd driven by
in an old Porsche with the top down--Penn talking, his head turned to
Pookie.
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