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“At least one of the bills, the one for Mom’s credit card, kind of solved a mystery. Guess what? All those big presents Dad got us—even that dinner at Shoney’s—he put on Mom’s credit card. I bet he’s the one who took Mom’s “missing” Christmas money, too. What a nice guy, huh? There were lots of other things on the bill, too—lots of bar tabs at the Alibi Inn that I know were Dad’s, not Mom’s, because Mom can’t drink more than one beer without falling asleep. And it looks like the card was maxxed out the day after Christmas. So Dad just left when he couldn’t use Mom’s card anymore. It wasn’t my fault at all.”

“My letter,” Bella said in Yiddish that was a bit garbled, but perfectly understandable. “I want my letter back and she won’t give it to me. Why doesn’t she understand my English?” “That’s Yiddish you’re speaking,” Yetta said. “No, it’s not,” Bella said irritably. “It’s the English I learned in the factory.” “It’s Yiddish! You must have learned Yiddish because there were so many of us Jews in the factory. Listen”—Yetta switched languages—“English sounds like this.” Bella stared up at Yetta, her eyes seeming to grow in her pale face. “I don’t even know what Yiddish is,” she said, in Yiddish….. “Bella learned Yiddish by mistake,” Yetta said. “She thought she was speaking English.” “Wish I could learn a new language just by mistake,” Jane said. “I’ve been studying Italian for weeks, and it’s totally useless.”

“Baby smuggling is a serious crime,' he said. 'There were thirty-six babies on that plane. We could charge you with thirty-six counts of kidnapping.' That, at least, got Second to look back at Mr. Reardon. 'Does FBI mean Federal Bureau of Idiots?' he asked. 'If any of you were any good at analyzing footprints, you would know that I fell when I was trying to sneak into the airport grounds, not out.' 'And why would you do that?' Mr. Reardon asked, hunching forward over a notepad. 'It was a dare, all right?' Second snarled. 'I was with my friends and we were talking about what it would be like to stand on a runway when a plane was landing and...we decided to try it out.' 'That's a crime too,' Mr. Reardon said. Second shrugged. 'It ain't thirty-six counts of kidnapping,' he said.”

“Listen, I'll share some of the wisdom I learned over the years. When you near the end of your life... when you're a lonely old man... you start realizing what your accomplishments are really worth. The most brilliant clue I ever deciphered, the millions I earned -- even the microwavable burrito itself -- sometimes I think I'd be willing to trade all of it for a single hug of someone who truly loves me.”