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Autumn passed into winter, a gray, nasty December followed by a bleak and bitter January. Jea
She intended it to be over before spring. She could not possibly stand another summer in this dump. But picking a time, and a precise method-that was harder. Clara slept most of the day now, helped by liberal doses of medicine; the doctor was understanding when Jea
And especially, to Jea
In the middle of January, Pearl came one day without calling first. Jea
"That's all right, dear, and I won't disturb Clara-" Pearl handed her the paper. "I just thought you should know, to break it gently-our other classmate, May, died yesterday in the nursing home."
"Oh, how terrible." She knew what to say, but felt the morning after lassitude dragging at her mind. "Sit down?"
"No." Pearl glanced at Clara's shut bedroom door. "I don't think I-I mean, I might cry… I would cry… and she'd be more upset. Pick your time, dear." And shaking her head to Jea
It was, in fact, the perfect excuse. Everyone knew that old people were more fragile, could fall apart when their friends died. Pearl was using a walker- Pearl, who two weeks ago had climbed the front steps on her own. So if she told Clara, and Clara's heart stopped, who would question it? And she would choose her time carefully.
Clara, of course, was awake, and had heard the doorbell. Another mistake, Jea
"I'll get your breakfast," said Jea
Rolls, cups of tea, the pretty enameled tray she might sell at the flea market for a few dollars. She carried it into Clara's bedroom with a bright smile, and said, "Here you are, dear."
"Wish I could have eggs." Clara fumbled for one of the rolls, and Jea
What it really did was remind her of the perfect method. She cleared away the tray, gently wiped Clara's streaked chin and brushed away the crumbs, then carried the tray to the kitchen. She was a little hungry now, and fixed herself a bowl of Clara's cereal. The right bowl would be in the sink, later, if anyone looked. They would look; it was that kind of town.
Then she carried in the morning paper, and the white cat-shaped pillow, fixing her face in its fake smile for the last time. She would have a fake sad look later, but this was the last fake smile, and that thought almost made it real.
"I'm sorry, Aunt Clara," she said, as sorrowfully as she could. "I've got bad news-"
"Pearl?" Clara's face went white; she was staring at the paper. Jea
"No," she said gently. "May Ellen." Clara's face flushed pink again.
"Law! You scared me!" Her breath came fast and shallow. "May's been loony this five years-I expected her-" But her chin had started to tremble, and her voice shook even more than usual.
"I thought you'd be upset," said Jea
Clara's good eye looked remarkably alive this morning, a clear unclouded gray. "I thought I heard you two whispering out there. She here?"