“There are places twenty minutes away with good reviews.”
“Mom.”
“Why eighty miles?”
Tom was watching me now.
Apparently, he’d never asked that question either.
Melissa finally answered.
“Because I knew what you’d do.”
“What would I do?”
“You’d keep trying to go home.”
I looked at the brass hinge in my palm.
“So you didn’t choose eighty miles because I couldn’t go home.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“You chose it because you knew I’d want to.”
Larry stopped swinging his feet.
Melissa’s voice sharpened.
“You fell, Mom.”
“Yes.”
“You were lying outside by yourself.”
“For ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes is enough!”
Her voice cracked.
“A neighbor called me about my mother. I live two blocks away… do you have any idea what that felt like?”
I did.
More than Melissa realized.
When Robert died, she had been at work.
By the time she reached the hospital, he was already gone.
For years, she’d carried that missed goodbye as if it were something she should somehow have prevented.
“I understand that you were scared,” I said.
“I am scared.”
“So am I.”
She went quiet.
I looked at the hinge again.
There was another truth I hadn’t told her.
“The railing was loose.”
“What?”
“On the back steps.”
Tom looked at me.
I continued.
“I knew it needed fixing.”
“Mom!”
“I know.”
“How long?”
“A while.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I kept meaning to call someone.”
Melissa made an angry sound.
For once, I let her have that anger.
She’d earned it.
“I should have fixed the railing,” I said.
“Yes, you should have.”
“That doesn’t mean you get to decide where I live.”
I could hear her breathing on the other end.
Then I said, “Come here.”
“What?”
“To the facility.”
“Mom, I have work.”
“So does Tom.”
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