Bertie and Marx sat in Cantor’s. They were having the kreplach. Bertie could see it reached Marx in the way he half-closed his eyes when he chewed.
“Your grandmother and I ate here together once,” Marx said. “We both ordered this. I was amazed. For a moment, I thought she might really start to like me, then I opened my mouth.”
Bertie spit out his bite with laughter. “I’m sorry, I really am, Marx,” he said as he continued laughing. “I just really miss her. She not the same person anym...
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