The Son Of Someone Famous. M.E. Kerr

      “I’m glad,” I lied. I didn’t want him to know how much trouble I was having making it on my own.

      “If you’re worried about anyone finding out who you are, stop worrying,” he said. “I never mention your father’s name around here. I hardly knew him, anyway, and I don’t believe in reflected glory.”

      My grandfather was busy tying the painted cans to the tree we’d made.

      He said, “Of course, I don’t know how you’re going to explain Billie Kay Case’s visit. Someone might recognize her, never mind the phony name she’s registering under down at the hotel. A lot of her old movies are showing on TV.”

      “If someone should recognize her,” I said, “I’ll just say she’s a friend.”