Winter Garden

“I notice you didn’t answer my question, Danny. ”

“Four and a half years. Give or take. ”

“And she never mentioned you or brought you home?”

“More’s the pity, eh? Well, it was grand talkin’ to you, Meredith, but your sis is givin’ me the evil eye, so I’d best hand her the phone. ”

As Meredith said good-bye, she heard a rustling sound, as if Danny and Nina were fighting over the phone.

Nina answered, sounding a little breathless; laughing. “Hey, Mere. What’s up? How’s Mom?”

“Honestly, Neens, that’s why I’m calling. She’s not good. She’s confused lately. Calls me Olga half the time and recites that damn fairy tale as if it means something. ”

“What does Doc Burns say?”

“He thinks it’s ordinary grief, but—”

“Thank God. I wouldn’t want her to end up like Aunt Dora, stuck in that pathetic nursing home, eating old Jell-O and watching game shows. ”

Meredith flinched at that. “She fell and sprained her ankle. Luckily I was there to help, but I can’t always be there. ”

“You’re a saint, Mere. Really. ”

“No, I’m not. ”

“Th at’s what Mother Teresa said to me, too. ”

“I’m no Mother Teresa, Nina. ”

“Yes, you are. The way you’re taking care of Mom and running the orchard. Dad would be proud. ”

“Don’t say that,” she whispered, unable to put any power in her voice. She wished now that she hadn’t called.

“Look, Mere. I really can’t talk now. We’re just on our way out. Do you have something important?”

This was her moment: she could blurt out the truth and be judged (Saint Mere, cramming Mom in a home) or she could say nothing. And what if Nina disagreed? Meredith hadn’t thought about that possibility before, but now she saw it clearly. Nina would not support her, and that would only make matters worse. To be called selfish by Nina was more than she could bear. “No, nothing important. I can handle it. ”

“Good. I’ll be home for Dad’s birthday, don’t forget. ”

“Okay,” Meredith said, feeling sick. “See you then. ”

Nina said, “Good-bye,” and their conversation broke.

Meredith hung up the phone. With a sigh, she turned off the lights and went back upstairs, where she crawled into bed with her husband.

. . . stuck in that pathetic nursing home . . .

Saint Mere

She lay there a long time, in the dark, trying not to remember those wretched, long-ago visits to Aunt Dora.

She was certain she had never fallen asleep, but at seven A. M. , the alarm clock jolted her awake.

Jeff stood by the bed with a cup of coffee. “You okay?”

She wanted to say no, to scream it, maybe even to burst into tears, but what good would that do? The worst part of all was that Jeff knew it; he was giving her his sad look again, his I’m-waiting-for-you-to-need-me look. If she told him the truth, he’d hold her hand and kiss her and tell her she was doing the right thing. And then she’d really lose it. “I’m fine. ”

“I thought you’d say that,” he said, stepping back. “We need to go in about an hour. I’ve got an appointment at nine. ”