Your House or Mine?. Cynthia Thomason

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ barely made a ripple beneath the sheets. “Aunt Amelia, it’s me, Margaret.”

      Amelia smiled, though not at Meg. “Oh, look. That woman’s got to give the price of an electric blender. I should be on that show. I just bought one, and it cost twenty-nine ninety-five.”

      Bob Barker flipped a card over and revealed a price of fourteen dollars for the blender, probably an accurate amount for an appliance that was sold twenty-some years ago when the show was first taped. Amelia clasped her hands under her chin. “See, I told you.”

      Meg took Amelia’s hand, thinking the gesture would divert the woman’s attention from the television. “I’m here, Aunt Amelia,” she said. “Remember me? Margaret.”

      Her aunt’s attention to the program didn’t waver. “If you’re going to stay, sit down and watch.”

      Meg obeyed. She sat in an upholstered armchair by the bed and remained silent through the Showcase Showdown. Once a winner was proclaimed, she asked if she could turn off the television.

      “Go ahead. I don’t like The Joker’s Wild.”

      Grateful for the silence, Meg tried to reach her aunt again. “It’s so good to see you, Aunt Amelia,” she said.

      Amelia’s head swivelled slowly and she finally gave Meg her attention. “It’s good to see you, too. You told me your name, didn’t you? I should have written it down. I tend to forget now and then.” She leaned over and took a notepad and pencil from her nightstand. “That’s why I write things down.” She smiled at Meg. “Now, what is your name again, dear?”

      Meg wiped at a tear that slid down her cheek. “My name is Margaret Hamilton. I’m your niece.”

      Amelia repeated the words as she wrote Meg’s name down. She stared intensely at the page before narrowing her eyes and squinting at Meg as if she were trying to pull a distant memory from the faulty recesses of her once sharp mind.

      Meg swallowed, trying to ease the burning in her throat. Of all the receptions she’d imagined during her drive to Mount Esther, she’d never expected that her aunt would have totally forgotten her existence. After all, hadn’t Nadine Harkwell said that Amelia had asked for her to come?

      As she watched her aunt’s face, hoping for a spark of recognition, Meg longed for the chance to go back just a few years, back to when she and Amelia sat on the front porch swing talking for hours about things that mattered to girls, young and old. Back then, they’d been best friends, not distant strangers. But now, the blank look in her aunt’s eyes was almost too much to bear.

      Meg patted Amelia’s hand and started to rise. And then a small miracle made her believe that somewhere beneath the muddled thinking, a vibrant, mischievous Amelia Ashford still thrived. Amelia turned her hand over in Meg’s and threaded their fingers together. “Margaret,” she whispered. “My darling Meggie. You’ve come. I knew you would.”

      Meg laughed through a choking sob, leaned over and kissed her aunt’s cheek. “That’s right. I’m here. What do you want me to do?”

      “We need to talk, Margaret. There is much that needs to be done and I’m afraid there’s too little time.” Amelia’s eyes fluttered and closed. “But I must rest now. Just a wee nap.”

      She was sound asleep when the nurse came in to check her. Meg introduced herself. “Did she recognize you?” the nurse asked as she held two fingers against Amelia’s wrist and checked her pulse.

      “Yes,” Meg said. “After a while at least.”

      “Good. She has lucid moments, and during those times you’re all she talks about.”

      “How is she, really?”

      The nurse inhaled deeply, indicating her response was not going to be good news. “She’s like many elderly people. They are able to maintain their mental capacity as long as their health is strong. But once they suffer a physical injury, it’s as though their systems shut down.” The nurse jotted something on Amelia’s chart and smiled down at her patient. “But she’s a dear old soul. We’re all quite fond of her.”

      “How long will she sleep?” Meg asked.

      “Not long. She catnaps all day.”

      The nurse was right. After a few minutes, Amelia wakened. She looked around the room and reached for the television remote on a cord dangling from the bed. Before she turned the set on, she regarded Meg with the same distant look she’d had earlier. “Hello. Did you bring my supper?”

      Meg smiled. “No, but I’ll see that you get it soon.”

      “Thank you.” Amelia turned on the set and tuned Meg out. Meg smoothed her palm along the wisps of snow-white hair on her aunt’s forehead, whispered good-night and left the room. Tomorrow she would try again.

      NORMALLY MEG DIDN’T talk on her cell phone while she was operating a car, but when she left Shady Grove, her desire to connect with her son was greater than her code of responsible driving. Besides, she’d only passed two cars in the mile she’d traveled back toward town. She pressed the speed dial to her home phone number.

      “Hey, sis,” Jerry said. “How’s it going up there?”

      Meg covered her disappointment that Spencer hadn’t answered with a cheerful greeting to her brother. “Hi, Jerry. Truthfully, it’s been quite a day.”

      “I’ll bet. How’s Aunt Amelia doing?”

      “She’s quite frail. And not thinking all that clearly.” That was an understatement. “How’s Spence? Did you remember to pick him up at the neighbor’s?”

      “Nope. Completely forgot. Good thing the kid stole a car and drove himself home.”

      Meg sighed, hating herself just a little. Of course Jerry wouldn’t forget to pick up Spence. She was going to have to quit treating her brother as if he were the ten-year-old and show more confidence in him. “I’m sorry, Jerry. I never should have suggested that you might forget.”

      “No, probably not, but I know you, so the assumption was expected…and forgiven.”

      She heard her son’s voice in the background. “Hey, Uncle Jerry, can I have another hot dog?”

      “Hot dogs?” Meg said. “You’re having hot dogs for dinner? I left a turkey meat loaf in the refrigerator.”

      “No offense, Meggie, but isn’t that an oxymoron using turkey and meat together in the same sentence?”

      Meg could picture her brother’s teasing grin.

      “Besides, Spence and I are bonding,” he continued. “You need guy food to do that—good old-fashioned frankfurters.” Before Meg could respond, Jerry said, “Hey, kid, back off on the Easy Cheese.”

      She rolled her eyes and decided it was best to adopt the philosophy that a short-term lack of nutrition probably never killed anyone.

      “So you had a bad day?” Jerry said.

      “Not the best. A few surprises, not the least of which was the presence of a man at the house when I got there.”

СКАЧАТЬ