I’m seventy-nine, and I’ve read enough warnings to know the tricks. But I’ll admit, when that voice came down the line crying, for one cold second my heart believed it.
‘Grandma, it’s me. I got in a wreck. I’m in jail and I need five thousand dollars for bail or I’m stuck here all weekend. Please, please don’t call Mom.’
It sounded so much like my Eric that my hand went to my chest. And then I remembered: Eric had come over that afternoon and was upstairs, right that minute, watching television.
A younger me might have panicked and driven to the bank. Instead, something in me went very calm and just a little bit wicked.
‘Oh no, honey,’ I said, settling into my chair. ‘Tell me everything. Start with your full name, so I can help you.’ And I kept him on that phone.
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