Folly Beach - Dorothea Benton Frank [132]
“Yep, time to go check on the old cabbage,” Ella said.
“Yep, and Mr. Stephanopoulos will have to find a new love,” Patti said. “He’ll live.”
When we got to the hospital we found Aunt Daisy sitting in a chair in her room, dressed and ready to go. She was wearing a pair of maroon-colored sweats Ella brought her the day before, running shoes, a black wool beret, and black round reading glasses, doing the puzzle from the News and Courier. No cast on the foot.
“Looks like they’re cutting you loose,” Ella said, handing her the New York Times arts section, already folded into quarters.
“Get me out of here,” Aunt Daisy said, “hospitals are for sick people.”
“How about your bootie for your foot?” I said.
“I threw it out of the window,” she said.
We looked at each other and knew she’d done no such thing but what she meant was, forget the cast. She wasn’t wearing it and she didn’t care. I got her a wheelchair for the ride to the car. She sat down like the queen of Mardi Gras and if she’d had strings of beads or hard candy, she would’ve tossed them to everyone. I had no doubt of that at all.
On the way out, we all hugged Nurse Rosol, who had been so wonderful to Aunt Daisy and nice to all of us, too.
“Thank you for everything,” I said to her.
“I had to make sure Ms. McInerny got better quick or I’d weigh a million pounds! That was still the best pecan pie I ever tasted,” she said.
“I’ll send you the recipe,” Ella said. She was so pleased.
“It’s on the back of the Karo syrup bottle,” Patti whispered.
“Hush!” Ella said. “She’s giving away all my secrets.”
When we got Aunt Daisy home, she was exhausted. We walked her slowly to her room upstairs. I knew she was tired because she was unusually quiet. I closed the curtains and Patti turned down her bed. Ella was with her in the bathroom, helping her put on a nightgown. The plan was that she would nap for a while and we would wake her up for lunch.
“I’m so happy to be home and in my own bed,” she said, as I covered her up.
“I’ll bet so,” I said.
She put her hand over mine and held it. “Tell me,” she said. “How’s John?”
“John’s great, Aunt Daisy, he really is.”
“I told you so,” she said and yawned.
We left her room quietly and went downstairs to the kitchen. The old cabbage was on the mend.
“Who wants coffee?” Ella said.
“I think I’ll make us some iced tea, if that’s okay?” I said, and filled the kettle with fresh water and put it on the stove.
“Humph,” Ella said. “If you remember how. You been up there in that terrible New Jersey for too long!”
“Ella? New Jersey isn’t terrible. It’s gorgeous! Where’re the tea bags? Still in here?”
She nodded. “What are you saying? You think I don’t watch television?”
“Don’t believe it. Those trashy television programs are how they control the population,” Patti said.
“Really?” Ella said. “But isn’t it too cold?”
Patti and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“You have no idea!” we said in stereo.
“Oh, Lordy!” Ella said and sat at the table. Actually, it was more like she collapsed onto a chair. “What are we going to make for supper?”
Patti and I looked at each other and said telepathically, Ella’s pooped, too. And we decided we would cook.
“Ella? Why don’t you go put your feet up? Patti and I got the rest of the meals today covered.”
“You know what? I just might do that.” A second or two later, she raised herself by leaning on the table with the heel of her hand and stood. “I’m gonna go shut my eyes for a few minutes. Y’all don’t need my supervision.”
“No worries,” we said. “Get a good nap!”
Ella took the stairs and I looked at Patti when Ella was out of earshot and said quietly, “Holy hell. She gave us free reign in her kitchen. You know, they’re starting to show some signs of aging.”
“That’s another reason I want to move back. They need us, Cate.”
“I think you’re right. And what the hell is the point of living someplace where nobody really loves you?”
“Well, I’ve got Mark, of course, but after this winter? I think he’d be thrilled to be here.”
“You know what? I’m thrilled to be here, even if I don