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“You know it.”

“OK, fine. But then we have to pick up your new meds. And I have work this afternoon, so we can’t linger.”

“And you have your little shopping date.”

“Grammy, for the last time—”

“I know, I know. You and that girl are only ‘friends.’ I’m just saying, you’d make a good-looking couple.”

I ignore this comment. “Anyway, Ms. Mills will be in to check on you and take a short walk around four, and then I’ll be home by six thirty at the latest.”

“That’s fine by me. I got shows to watch,” Grammy says. “Now, let’s get the hell away from here.”

“As you wish,” I say, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the street toward Dunkin.

CHAPTER 16Juniper

SONG OF THE DAY:

“Warm in December” by Samara Joy

Stella’s is one of those department stores

I wouldn’t normally set foot in

the first floorlined with glassy countertops

lipstick and skin-care displays

poster ads featuring gaunt celebrities

spritzing themselves dramatically

with some high-end scent.

Almost as old as Macy’s

only a local Michigan chain

it’s hard to imagine anyone but

Midwestern beauty queens and old white ladies

shopping at Stella’s.

But here I am

noonas promised

hair tucked into a beanie

wearing joggersa cream flannel

and high-top Chucks

waiting by the handbags

for Lyric.