Nacchianti Turns 16

It was a cold morning. Nacchianti had just turned 16.
Collette and Puck were home for the day. During their first walk, Collette wrapped him in a blanket in his stroller and took him around the neighborhood. In their travels, they found a quarter and three pennies, which they left on the road. One penny had sat in a crack for so long, that it had turned green. Unfortunately, the blanket had kept Puck so warm that he fell asleep before they returned home.
While Collette was watching a travel program about gizzards on sticks and ice-cold waterfalls in Japan, OLeif IM’d news about Othniel Avonlea. He had been in a car wreck and was in the hospital with a broken femur. Surgery was scheduled for the following day.
Puck was in a bad mood – fussing, biting things, destroying things. She had to conclude that he was teething. Not only did he crush the plastic lid of the disposable pan which OLeif had just bought in a two-pack for the potato dish Collette made Easter Sunday, but he also dropped her hand mirror on their bedroom floor. It shattered, face-down, thankfully. Collette picked up the pieces and landed it in the garbage.
“You’re taking after your dad, Puck,” she teased him.
But Puck was more interested in roaring at OLeif’s blue retainer case and his hair brush. Lately, his building blocks hadn’t been fascinating enough to hold his attention. He wanted off-limits gadgets, and Collette had to carefully guard cabinets and drawers.
On their afternoon walk, Collette saw two more pennies in the road. As they passed a black pick-up sitting on the street, she was pretty certain that she saw Cyrano Rutabaga in the driver’s seat. He had been in the neighborhood a year earlier when he knocked on their front door. Collette wasn’t sure that he had recognized her, and he hadn’t seen OLeif sitting on the couch.
OLeif picked up his mended violin on his lunch break. He had also bought a full set of strings.
“I like, Parfenov,” he said. “He’s a salesman. But he sells things like Joe sells them. He’s not selling you something just to make money. He loves what he does, and he believes in what he sells.”