Page 75 of Last Call

“Just about. You’ve got five minutes to wash your hands and find your hat. Momma put your fishing pole by the door.”

He sprang up from the table, already grinning. “Fish!”

Ida chuckled as he dashed down the hall, his socks slipping on the hardwood floor, the alphabet sheet fluttering behind him. “I hope Pete knows what he’s signed up for.”

The unfamiliar sound of the house phone startled Ida. No one called her on the landline except Sylvia Main, and they had a scheduled phone date every Tuesday at 9:00 am. If the phone was ringing at 2:30 pm on a Friday, something was wrong. She took a few deliberate breaths to steady her nerves and went to answer it.

“Gwama!”

“I’ll be right there, Owen,” Ida called out. She exhaled and lifted the receiver on the wall. “Hello?”

“Ida?”

“Dick?”

“I’m sorry to call you in the middle of the day,” Dick Bath apologized.

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s a reason you’re calling me.”

“It’s Dora, Ida.”

“What happened?”

“She slipped. I thought she slipped in the bathroom. It looks like it’s more than clumsiness.”

Ida fought to breathe. “Where are you?”

“We’re at UVMC.”

“All right. Pete is due to get Owen any minute. I’ll head to you.”

“You don’t need to do that, Ida. I know you have your hands full. I just wanted you to know before the gossip mill starts turning.”

“I’ll be there in a bit. Do you need anything?”

“I’d say coffee.”

“I’ll bring you a decaf.”

Dick chuckled. “Ida…”

“Don’t jump to conclusions. She has enoughfriendswho’ll do that for you,” Ida said.

“I’ll try.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Ida promised, slumping into a kitchen chair.

“Gwama?” Owen asked sheepishly. “Are you sick?”

“No, honey. I’m not sick. Come here,” Ida said. She straightened his lopsided blue Red Sox cap and smiled, even as tears prickled in her eyes.

“Are you sad?” Owen asked.

“No. Are you ready?”

“Yep!”

“Good,” Ida said just as a knock landed on the door.

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