Sly has died.
Primo calls me at 7 a.m. to tell me. His dad had died an hour earlier.
We speculated about the will. (Because we are human is why. And because Primo is pretty sure that whatever happens, Ted and Jack will be unhappy and will fight him.)
"I think I should give money to each of the grandkids," Primo says. "Enough to cover their student loads."
"And then I could run another political campaign."
I swallow hard. If Primo does inherit anything, well, it is his money. I mean, it is ours, but morally, it is his.
Then Primo tells me that he wants to move the piano and the bookcase from his mom and dad's to our house.
That is, pay someone to move a bookcase and a piano a thousand miles.
I don't want more stuff in my house and I really don't want stuff from Sly and Doris in my house. And I don't want to pay to move stuff I don't want in my house.
Maybe he'll forget about it?
I think life is going to get easier.