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Show 404 "Yes. I'm working at a bank in Westwood Village, if you know where that is." He was nervous about his mother and wished Stephen or one of the girls would take her into the chapel and make her sit down. "Oh sure, out by the temple. Do you ever run into Bob Gordon? He's still out there, I think." "I don't know what they sent it to me for. It wasn't because of anything that happened, I mean no one had died. I guess they just wanted me to know they were thinking about me. They wanted me to hang in there, baby. So that's what I'm doing. I'm hanging in there, baby." Hal was beginning to look a tiny bit bored. Lorin reached for his mother's arm. "I haven't run into Bob, no. If I do I'll tell him hello for you. Thanks, Herb. Why don't we go sit down, Mom?" "No, wait, he's in West Covina. I saw his dad the other day and he said West Covina. I guess that's not out your way." "I'll tell him hello. Thanks, Herb." He put an arm around his mother's shoulders and led her to the row of folding chairs that lined the wall beside the casket. "Let's just sit here till it's time to go in," he said, looking around the room for Katy or Sonia. "That Hal Kratzer is the nicest man," his mother said. "Yes." He spotted Cliff Cummings and his daughter across the room talking to some people by the table where a girl in a white dress was handing out programs. Margaret Cummings had been a tall girl two or three years older than Lorin, with big feet and bony knees, and he had been in love with her when he was nine. She looked rangy and homely now. He wondered if she had ever gotten married. "You remember my son Lorin, don't you, Alicebeth?" his mother said. Lorin stood up to shake hands and a woman with enormous breasts presented |