There Was an Old Woman

Chapter Twenty-four


It wasn’t until Mina was inside her house with the door firmly shut that she let go of Evie’s arm. Feeling utterly defeated and trembling with humiliation, she sank down on a bench in the entryway and stared at the mud she’d tracked across the threshold. Mina could hear herself panting like she’d been running.

“Are you all right?” Evie asked.

“Of course I’m all right,” Mina said. How could her own nephew talk to her that way? And in public?

Evie made a murmur of sympathy. What would have happened, Mina wondered, if the girl hadn’t shown up? That man was going to handcuff her and haul her off to jail? And Brian, standing right there and not lifting a finger to help.

As if she couldn’t take care of herself. She’d been taking care of herself for—

“Here, let me help you off with these.” Evie squatted down in front of her.

“It’s all right. I can do it.” Mina bent over and strained to reach the boot. Tried to take a deep breath, but that made her back ache. She needed to slow down, to breathe, and get the pounding in her chest to ease.

Reluctantly she gave up, leaned back, and let Evie pick up one of her legs then the other, tugging off the tall rubber boots like her mother used to do when she was in first grade. Her feet came out bare. Mina reached into each boot and pulled out the bedroom slippers that were stuck inside. She dropped them on the floor and slid her feet into them.

Evie set the boots on the mat by the door. Then she went into the kitchen and came back with some paper towels. She wiped away the mud Mina had tracked into the entryway.

“Are they still out there?” Mina asked.

Evie stood and looked out through the window in the front door. “They’re talking.”

“Having a jolly postmortem on my behalf, no doubt.”

After a long pause, Evie said, “They’re leaving now.”

When she heard the sound of a car engine catching, Mina felt the tension finally drain from her back. “I’m quite sure they think I’m a complete nitwit. Delusional. But this thing nearly hit me in the head.” She set the golf ball on the hall table. “As if I could make up something like that.”

Evie picked up the ball and examined it.

“He said it was”—Mina continued, lowering her voice though she knew no one but Evie could hear her—“the third time that I’ve set off that alarm.”

“But it’s not?” Evie offered Mina her cane.

“Could someone forget a thing like that?” Mina took the cane and stood. “With that alarm blaring? You tell me.” She pushed away the supporting hand Evie offered. She’d be damned if she’d let herself be treated as an invalid.

She made her way to the bathroom where she washed the mud off her hands and arm. Afterward, she stared at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. The scar had turned bright pink. She ran her fingers along its rippled surface. Pink or not, it was completely numb. A blessing, really.

She moistened a washcloth and wiped away streaks of mud from her face. Then she turned her head so she could no longer see the scar.

When she’d turned forty, Mina’s face had started to remind her of her mother’s. But her mother hadn’t made it past seventy. Now the person in the mirror was a complete stranger. The loose skin on her cheeks looked like antique vellum, foxed with age. Pouches sagged under her eyes. Deep lines were incised from the corners of her mouth to her chin. It was odd. Though she was physically transformed, she felt like exactly the same person she’d been when she was twelve.

She could take looking older. Feeling older, even. But losing her memory and her mind? Turning into a person that people talked about but never to? Mina swallowed a knot of fear in her throat and left the bathroom.

“You’re the one who sold me on the therapeutic effects of a nice cup of tea,” Evie said as Mina sank into her chair in the living room. “How about I fix one for you now? I know where everything is.”

Mina sighed. Yes, a cup of hot tea would be lovely. Especially one that she didn’t have to make herself. She was about to say so when she remembered the incinerated teakettle. She felt a new flush of humiliation creep up her neck.

“No, thank you, dear. You’re kind to offer. But really I’m perfectly fine. Don’t worry about me. You already have your hands full. Are you going back to the hospital today?”

Evie checked her watch. “Oh, shit.” Her face colored. “I mean sheesh. How’d it get so late? The doctor’s only there until noon, and I have to take the bus again unless Finn has put some gas in the tank.”

“Well, you certainly don’t want to miss the doctor.” Mina pushed off the afghan and heaved herself to her feet. “Take my car keys. I’m not going anywhere, and in case you can’t get your mother’s car started, you’ll have a backup.”

“You sure?”

“Oh my, yes. I should have offered earlier. Besides, I haven’t driven it in days and it’s like an old dog that needs to be walked every once in a while. As soon as I find my purse—” Mina glanced around the living room. Where had she left it?

“I saw it. Hold on.” Evie disappeared into the kitchen. She came back a moment later with Mina’s handbag.

Of course. Now Mina remembered setting it carefully on the quilted placemat on the kitchen counter, determined not to lose it again. What on earth was the matter with her?

“Thank you so much,” Evie said when Mina handed her the car keys. “This is so generous of you. You really are a peach.” Evie started to go but turned back. “You sure you’re okay? Is there anyone I should call to come stay with you?”

“Stay with me? Pshaw. If there’s anything I know how to be, it’s alone. You go. Hurry.”

“Thank you.”

As Evie started out through the dining room, Mina noticed for the first time that she had on loose red-and-blue-plaid flannel pants. Were those pajama bottoms?

“You’re going out in those?” she asked.