It took several minutes to catch up, her heels no match for the two sets of wheels going full pelt across the concrete.
"What the hell is going on?" she said as she finally managed to catch up to them now they'd come to a halt. Gloria was unbuckling her seatbelt as Matty leaned down to lift the footplates out of the way so Gloria could stand.
"Oh, Joan," Gloria said, half turning, wobbling, and going down on her knees before Matty could catch her properly.
"Mother!" Sloan exclaimed and rushed forward. "This is why she doesn't leave the house!" she shouted at Matty. "What were you thinking?"
"Get me up," Gloria demanded. Back on her feet, Matty offered the cane, which she took. "Thank you."
Turning to Sloan, Matty said, "It was a nice day, and we thought we'd get out of the house, didn't we, Mrs S?"
"Yes, we did. Because we're adults who can make those decisions, Joan."
Sloan ignored Gloria. "I am not paying you to go waltzing around on those," she asserted as she pointed to the skates, "and injuring my mother in the process."
Matty nodded, letting Sloan vent before she calmly said, "Take a breath, Sloan, and look at Gloria."
"What?"
"I said to look at your mother. Who do you see?"
Sloan stared at her, then at her mother, then back at Matty. "I don't understand the question."
Gloria piped up, "She sees a frail, old, broken woman incapable of doing anything."
"That's not—" Sloan turned back to her mother and finally saw it—the makeup, the summer dress, the effort. "I… You…"
"She looks fabulous, don't you agree?" Matty said.
"Yes, of course, but…" she stuttered, pointing to the wheelchair. "You were going too fast."
"We were having fun," Gloria said. "And now I'm tired. Take me home," she said to Matty.
Matty shrugged. "Gotta go. I'm gullibly relying on her telling me what she wants to do, so…"
"Right. Well, we'll discuss this later," Sloan said, watching Gloria sink back into the chair. "And take her to the minor injuries unit to check that knee out."
"Oh, give over, Joan, it's a scrape. I'll live." Gloria waved her off and dug into her bag for a handkerchief, licking it and then dabbing it against the small graze.
"I'll see you tonight," Sloan hissed at Matty, but they were already gone and out of earshot.
***
Sloan strode back into the office, jaw set, her heels striking the floor with a little more force than usual. She barely acknowledged Dawn’s greeting.
“Hold all calls,” she said, voice clipped. “Unless it’s Boston or my mother, I’m not to be disturbed.”
“Yes, Ms Slater.”
She closed her office door with a decisive click, dropped her bag on the desk, and stood for a moment, staring out at the street below. Shoppers were going about their business, oblivious to her inner turmoil. Her reflection in the glass was as immaculate as ever—hair smooth, suit perfect, not a trace of the chaos from earlier. She pressed her lips together, willing her pulse to slow.
She’d lost control. In public. Again.
Her mother had fallen. Matty had—what? Shrugged it off, as if it were nothing? And Gloria, stubborn as ever, had sided withher. Of course she had.
Sloan turned away from the window and dropped into her chair. She picked up her pen and began flicking through the stack of reports on her desk with icy precision. Work was safe. Work was controllable.
But as she tried to focus on the words in front of her, the image of her mother—rouge on her cheeks, summer dress, laughing—kept intruding, refusing to be banished. For a moment, Sloan’s hand stilled.
