In the helicopter on the way back to Wallops Station, Grandpa and Paul
talked things over. They would try to seal off today's grief. No need
to speak of it tonight, with folks listening in. It would be like
unbandaging a wound for everyone to see. They would talk of the kittens
instead. And so, when the plane landed, their faces were set in a mask.
Maureen and Grandma, bundled in coats and scarves, were there to meet
them. Maureen rushed up, bursting with curiosity. Before she could ask
her question, Paul said, "You'd never, _ever_ guess."
"All right, Mr. Smarty. Then I just won't try."
"There's more than one!"
"Twins?" she gasped. "Oh, Paul, isn't that wonderful! One for you and
one for me!"
"Nope. It's quadruplets--it's four of them."
"Can't be!" Grandma broke in as they walked toward the mess hall. "I
may be a sea-captain's daughter, but I know 'nough about ponies to know
they don't have four to once. Speak up, Clarence."
Grandpa took off his hat and let the wind pick up the wisps of his
hair. "Yup, Idy," he nodded, "yer kitchen's a nursery now with four
little ones...."
Grandma wailed. "Oh, my beautiful new table all bit up, and my linoleum
ruint."
"Pshaw! The little ones ain't bigger'n nothing," Grandpa said, flashing
a wink at Paul.
At the door of the mess hall Maureen stopped in her tracks and began
jumping up and down as if she had the answer to a riddle. "It's
Wait-a-Minute!" she shouted. "She's had kittens again!"