“Did the lasagna have sausage in it?”
“No. It was spinach.”
I was tempted to add “Bluch.”
“We’ll need to run some tests. I don’t think you’ve had another stroke, though.”
“She hasn’t? Well, what’s wrong with her?”
“I’m not sure. That’s what the tests are for. How do you feel now, Emma?”
“Queasy.”
“I’ll have the nurse bring you something to settle your stomach.”
And with that, he was gone. The light seemed to have left the curtained room. I said to my grandmother, “I thought you wanted the lasagna for dinner?”
“I changed my mind.”
“Did it taste all right? It didn’t taste like it had turned, did it?” I asked. Given Edward’s questions it was obvious he was leaning toward food poisoning.
“It tasted fine. Maybe a little bitter. I don’t know. I was hungry.”
I suppose it didn’t matter when she ate the lasagna. Given that I can’t stand spinach I wouldn’t have touched it.
“He’s a very attractive young man.”
“Mmmm-hmmm.”
“I wonder if he’s single?”
“He’s too young for you,” I told her.
“Not for me. For a young girl who goes to our church.”
“A young girl?”
“Well, young to me. I think she’s almost forty.”
“Dr. Stewart is only thirty-one.”
“How do you know how old he is?”
“He looks thirty-one.”
“I wonder if he’d go out with her?”
“I doubt it.” This was an uncomfortable topic, so I attempted to move her off it. “You should focus on getting better. You can pimp out your fellow congregants later on.”
“I’m not a pimp—that’s a disgusting thing to say.”
“Well, what do you think is going to happen? You set them up on a date, then what?”
“If they like each other they’ll go on another date.”
“And if they keep liking each other they’ll end up doingit.” Of course, I knew this wouldn’t happen with Edward. I was just pretending it might to annoy my grandmother.
“They could get married,” she said.
