"Mama, why do you call Mr. Russo 'Papa'?" Jean asked.
Mrs. Dunn dried her hands and looked at her daughter. "When I was a little girl," she said, "our family lived in the house next to Mr. Russo and his wife. They let us play in their big yard. When we fell and scraped our knees, one of them would put a bandage on it. They gave us cookies and milk. They seemed almost like grandparents to us. So we called them Nana and Papa Russo."
"Where is Nana Russo?"
"Nana Russo died before you were born," Mrs. Dunn said. "We were very sad. We all missed her very much. Papa Russo seemed lost without her, too. He looked so sad most of the time."
"Is he lonely?"
"He has lived by himself for a long time, almost twenty years. Now he can't go out very much because he is sick. I expect he is very lonely. That is one of the reasons we are going to see him today," Jean's mother said. "And we are going to take some beef stew for his dinner."
"Can't he make his own dinner?"
"No. It is hard for him to stand up for very long at a time," Mrs. Dunn said. "He can stand up long enough to get cereal, toast, and juice for his breakfast. He can't manage his lunch or dinner, though."
Jean was worried. "Mama, does he just eat breakfast most of the time?"