Page 52 of Woman on the Verge

We leaned the king mattress against the wall in the downstairs bedroom, then brought the queen mattress upstairs. Jim was sweating at that point, which made me feel bad.

“Thank you,” I said when we’d gotten the queen mattress upstairs.

“What’s next?” Jim asked, noticeably out of breath. Even though he’s quite obviously a healthy man, he’s still elderly. I didn’t need a heart attack on my conscience.

“Your part is done.” I put my hands in prayer position to express my gratitude.

“We have to build the beds, right?” he asked.

“I can do that,” I said. “I have my dad’s drill and everything.”

He swiped his hand at the air, waving off my agenda.

“I’ll build the beds,” he said.

“No, really, you don’t need to do that.”

“He’s very good at this type of thing,” Alice said. “Come, I’ll make you some tea at my place.”

“I can at least be an assistant,” I said.

“It’s a one-person job, and I insist on being that person,” Jim said.

“There’s no point arguing with him, hon,” Alice said.

That was that.

Alice and I walked downstairs.

“Mer, I’m taking Nicole to have a cup of tea. You want to come?”

My dad couldn’t be left alone, though. He would likely try to walk somewhere and fall.

“I’ll stay here with Rob. Thanks, though.”

“You don’t mind if I steal Nicole away?” she asked, as if I were a minor in need of permission.

“Go right ahead,” Merry said.

Jim and Alice’s house is a Victorian meant for San Francisco proper. When we went inside, it looked the same as I remembered from childhood. It smelled the same, too—cinnamon and vanilla. Alice was always baking something.

We sat at the kitchen table, and she poured two cups of tea from a kettle on the stove. She was the type to always have a kettle of tea at the ready. She brought a little cup of sugar cubes too. Alice was someone with little cups of sugar cubes.

“I have to say I’m in a bit of shock about your father,” she said.

“I am too.”

I dropped one of the cubes in my tea, watched it dissolve.

“Merry told me your father had taken a fall ... Is that what started all this?”

I remembered what the doctor had said:A red herring, as we say.

“No, not related. Just a coincidence.”

“I just didn’t know his symptoms were so serious.”

“They weren’t really until very recently.”

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