Gen accepted Mrs. Elliott's offer. I think Mrs. Elliott did not regret her decision; Gen's children were well-behaved and Gen was an employed and responsible parent. By the time school started, Gen had arranged day care for Becky and enrolled Susie and me at Petersburg Elementary School, north on Santa Fe from our apartment. Gen dropped Becky off at the baby sitter on her way to work. Susie and I caught the bus to school. Gen fixed dinner and palled around with us when she came home from work with Becky. Everything fell into place for us. We had fun and I don't think any of us missed Dick at all.
The little apartment wasn't designed for four people, but it seemed ok to us. The bedroom was big enough for a pair of bunk beds, Becky's crib, Gen's double bed, her dresser, and a bureau. The kitchen had enough room for a little table and three chairs, plus Becky's high chair. The living room held Gen's sewing machine, a couple of armchairs, a book shelf, and Gen's cedar chest, which we used as a sofa and on which Gen set up the Christmas tree for the holidays in 1958. The bathroom was big enough not only for us, but also for the long-haired white cat that Gen adopted.
Gen took us Christmas shopping in Englewood one night. As we were leaving the store, she noticed a little boy shooing away a cat in the parking lot. Gen investigated and discovered that the boy's mother had told him to get rid of the cat. Gen scooped up the cat and loaded it in our car. When we got home, it was apparent why the boy's mother wanted the cat gone--she was lumpy with kittens, which were born a few nights later in a box Gen set up under the bathroom sink. Gen seemed to know everything about cats. She got me out of bed to watch the births and told me what was happening at every step. It was fascinating. The kittens were great fun, as kittens always are, and Gen found homes for all three of them.