Pushover

Harry

We arrived at his vast estate. The gates slid open, and I drove up toward the house. It was tacky, really, but the enormous mansion that he’d had built for himself seemed to suit him down to the ground. I could never have imagined myself living in a place like that, but maybe I was just being a snob. Perhaps there was a lot to be said for just kicking back and letting yourself indulge in all your worst, craziest whims as you got older. He certainly seemed to be happy, after all.

He was waiting by the door for us when we pulled to a halt outside the house, and he instantly crouched down and held his arms out to Winnie as soon as he saw her approaching.

“Hey, Winnie!” he called to her, and she practically leaped into his arms and gave him a huge hug. I was surprised that she didn’t break him. He was starting to look really frail these days, and I just hoped to God that he was going to be with us a little longer yet. He had his bad days, days when he knew that he couldn’t handle se