Page 52
Story: Eye of the Storm (Hudson 3)
"Anything you need, of course." he said.
"I need you to be well." I said. "One invalid on the property is all we're permitted. I read the zoning ordinances."
He nodded, laughing silently.
"Okay, Princess," he said. "I'll shape up." "Good."
After he was gone. I was left to ponder and anticipate my Aunt Victoria's visit and intentions. There was no doubt in my mind she believed she had the upper hand. I was sure she had been plotting with Grant against me, but I couldn't help being curious about them all, especially my mother, despite how much I wished I could put them out of my mind forever and ever.
Just as I returned to my room after a therapy session. Victoria appeared. I wasn't even in my bed. I was sitting in the wheelchair and I had just turned on the television set to continue with the soap opera I had been following. I heard the familiar click of her heels on the corridor floor and then she was there, pouncing on the entrance as though someone had dared forbid her coming. For a moment she was confused. I wasn't in the bed. Then she saw me and straightened up quickly into her usual ironing-board posture.
"Well, how are you?" she asked.
"How do I look?" I countered.
She was clutching her purse under her right arm, pressing it against her hip like a pistol and holster. Dressed in her usual dray skirt suit and blouse with those thick-heeled shots, she looked as firm and as formal as ever. However. I could see she wasn't comfortable in the hospital setting. Her eyes shifted about like a frightened chicken. She had put on a dab of lipstick and what looked like a touch of rouge.
"You look remarkably well,' she replied. She spotted the chair and went to it. For a moment we just looked at each other. "When I was a teenager. I had a temporary fascination with horseback riding. I started to take lessons. but I was never graceful or relaxed enough and always came away with an ache here or an ache there," she said indicating her lower back and her thighs.
"Megan was very good at it. My father bought her a horse. A beautiful Arabian. It
cost a fortune to maintain it for her occasional rides. She soon grew bored with it, of course, and finally my father had the sense to sell it. It was months before Megan even knew he had, months before she even asked about her horse. She never told you?"
"We didn't have a long enough mother-daughter conversation for any of that," I said dryly.
"I suppose not. You know, her taking you back, bringing you to our mother and forgetting about you is just in character for her. She has no attention span, whether it be new clothes, children, horseback riding, golf, anything, even her own husband."
"How is she?" I asked.
"She's actually.., as much of an invalid as you are these days. She's out of her room, but she doesn't get about anywhere near what she used to she's of absolutely no use socially and politically to Grant. They don't have any dinner parties and he's had to attend most functions by himself. I happened to have been there to escort him to one affair." she added.
"How kind of you to make such a sacrifice," I said, She either deliberately or actually missed my sarcasm.
"I do what I can. I still have all my
responsibilities here. She knows what's happened to you." she added after a short pause during which she looked at me. "Has she bothered to call?"
"No."
"I'm not surprised."
"I'm not either, but not for the same reasons," I said,
"Oh stop that." she snapped. It felt like a slap. It was so unexpected. I could only raise my eyebrows. "'There's no reason for this self-immolation. You're not being punished for something you've done to Megan, believe me. What happened to Brody was all her fault. Her not calling you is just her way to find a scapegoat. She's always been like that. She's never accepted responsibility for her actions before this. She certainly won't now.
"Anyway. I've come to tell you that I'm seeing to everything."
"What do you mean?" I asked, expecting her to drop her bombs now.
"Everything that has to be done for you will be done." she declared in her characteristic take-charge manner. "Once again. I have to fill in for Megan, do what she should be doing. I've done it so much. I don't even mind it anymore."
"What exactly are you doing?"
"I've had a downstairs bedroom prepared for you at the house. I've had the medical equipment company provide what is needed. I've hired a fulltime maid who has had experience as a nurse's aide. Her name is Mrs. Bogart. She'll be there when you arrive."
"Arrive?"
"I've been in continuous contact with your doctors and therapists here. You're going to be discharged from this facility in two days."
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