I pinch the bridge of my nose. “If you’re dying in six months, how could I possibly give you great-grandchildren if it takes at least nine months to make one?” “I don’t know. You have your ding-a-ling that’s been around the block. Any accidents happen?” Jesus Christ, did they give her an upper today? “No accidents, Gran. I always wrap up.” She huffs her disappointment. “Well, that’s upsetting. I’m going to die without great-grandchildren.”
