Bubba's aunt Clara was excited to have her nephew around for the summer. She didn't know about his trouble, just his acknowledged high spirits. Her older sister wasn't proud of Bubba's accomplishments, and hadn't involved Clara in the details, preferring Clara remain in the dark. Bubba's mom and his aunt hadn't been close since Clara moved to the Big City, first marrying a rich old guy and then inheriting his money, his houses, his connections. Bubba's mom didn't actually think ill of sister Clara, but had some hopes that Clara's luck might actually rub off on Bubba.
Clara, for her part, was happy to think that she'd have a handsome young man around because she'd broken her leg during spring skiing on Tuckerman's Ravine up in New Hampshire with her rowdy pals. It was healing slowly, and she felt absolutely occluded, a near shut-in, but she'd at least gotten out to the lake cottage. Sitting in her apartment high above Central Park was too much when she couldn't do more than hobble down the gravel paths. At the lake, she could sit in the sun, float around in the sailboat, and Bubba could bring some life to the cottage, gathering friends to the cottage for cookouts and parties. Clara was confident that her cane wouldn't impede her ability to have fun.
Words are a game. Sometimes I play alone, but you are welcome to play, too.