She blinks once and then smiles up at me. “I took too many naps over the last few days, and now I can’t keep my days straight.” She laughs, reaching for the walker beside her.
I grab it, placing a hand on her back, helping her stand from the chair. “Is this yours?”
She covers her mouth with one hand, flicking the other one at me while she lets out a cough. “Sorry about that.” She wipes her eyes with the little purple handkerchief in her hand. “I’m getting over a nasty little cold and still not feelingmy strongest.” She grips the handles with both hands. “Now I’m stuck with this stupid thing,” she grumbles, and I’m pretty sure if she had the strength to kick the walker across the room she would have.
“This?!” I gesture to her. “Nah, Rosie. This is cool.”
She rolls her eyes at me and I know I’ve got her.
“Everyone here is absolutely jealous of this ride.”
“You’re a fool, kid.”
I wink at her, and she can’t help but smile as she pats me on the chest once, and then pushes herself out of the room.
The chair she was sitting in is still warm when I sit down across from William who’s also looking a little different today.
“How was your week, Willie?” I swipe a deck of cards off the coffee table between us and begin shuffling.
“Uneventful.”
He’s not sad about it, but something about being busy the last few days and not getting to visit at my normal times, plagues me with guilt.
“You wanna play a game?” he asks, pointing at the cards in my hands.
I look down at my lap and then back to him, finally realizing what’s off.
“Where’s your book?”
He opens his mouth, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “I lost my glasses,” he grumbles, patting his leg.
“There on your head, silly.”
He shakes his head, closing his eyes. “No. No. Those are my regular glasses. I lost my reading glasses.”
“Maybe if you put your regular glasses on, you’d be able to find your reading ones.”
He laughs. “Maybe. So, you want to play some poker or what?”
I flush the cards in my hand, watching William who won’t look at me now. I wonder if he’s embarrassed to admit he lostthem. I lean forward, about to get up and move to the playing table, when I spot the spine of his book tucked between him and the armchair.
I drop the deck on the table and stand. “You know, I’ve been thinking about how that story you’ve been reading was going to end.” I nod my head toward his seat, and he shifts like he’s just now remembered it was there. “I could read it to you and we could find out together.”
He pulls the book out, holding it in his hands, and then looks up at me. “I thought you said you didn’t read?”
“Yeah.” I pocket my hands, and shrug my shoulders. “What I meant was, I only read with my friends.”
His lip trembles as he fights the curve of his smile. I nod toward the door, help him up, and take him outside to a bench with the view of the hills.
One hour and two wrong murder accusations later, Monica finds William and me outside.
“I should probably be concerned with how warm it is for this time of year, but I’ll take it.” She squints against the sunlight as she approaches us with a paper in her hand.
“How’s it going, Monica?”
“Pretty good, thanks for asking.” She smiles while handing me the paper she was carrying.
I take it, scanning over the document and all her signatures. Twenty out of twenty hours is circled with a check mark at the bottom.
