The phone buzzed twice, a short vibration that made my fingers twitch.
I looked down at the screen.
It was a text from Graham, sent three minutes ago from Room 3.
“Please let me explain before you talk to them,” the message read. “I saw her hand on your back.”
The nurse watched the little dial needle bounce backward on her gauge.
“Your blood pressure is one hundred and fifty over ninety-five,” she said.
“I usually run low,” I said, keeping my thumb flat over the glowing text.
She reached for a small plastic cup of water and set it on the laminate counter. “Is there someone we should call to take you home tonight, Nora?”
“My sister lives in Ohio,” I said.
She took my wrist between her fingers, her thumb searching for the pulse beneath my skin.
“Your husband is very anxious to get you checked out,” she said.
“He wants to go back to his mother’s house,” I said.
She didn’t answer, her eyes fixed on the second hand of the wall clock.
I decided then that I would not ask Graham for permission to speak to the doctor.
“Let’s get you back to the room,” Sarah said, unlocking the wheels of the chair. “Dr. Mercer wanted to see if those films came back from the basement lab.”
When we got back to Room 3, Judith was already sitting in the vinyl chair by the window.
She had her dark wool coat draped over her knees, but she had not taken off her leather driving gloves.
“The floor here is filthy,” Judith said, tapping the toe of her leather boot against the metal baseboard. “You would think a county hospital could afford a mop.”
“Mother, please,” Graham said, his voice dropping into that placating tone again.
Judith ignored him, looking at the plastic pitcher on my bedside table. “Did they even offer you anything warm to drink? I told Graham we should have brought the thermos from the kitchen, but he was in such a rush to get the car keys.”
She looked from the pitcher back to my hospital gown, her eyes resting on the stained cream cardigan. “The doctor said they might keep you for observation. On a Sunday night, of all times.”
“The stairs are very steep, Judith,” I said, clearing my throat before I spoke about the medical bill. “The ambulance ride alone will be over twelve hundred dollars.”
“You always did have trouble with those heels, Nora,” Judith said, brushing a speck of gray lint off her wool trousers with a sharp, downward flick of her gloved finger. “A sensible shoe would have caught on the tread.”
“I was wearing my flats,” I said.
Judith leaned forward, her shoulder blades tightening under her coat as she lunged slightly toward the edge of the mattress, then stopped herself.
“We all know what you were doing,” she said, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “You were rushing because you wanted to leave before we finished the pie.”
“Mother,” Graham said, his hand rising to press flat against his chest. “Let’s just let the doctor finish his work.”
“She needs to tell them it was an accident, Graham,” Judith said, turning her head so fast her gold earrings clicked against her collar. “They are asking questions at the desk about our stairs.”
I held my phone in both hands under the sheet, the screen still dark, my thumb resting on the power button.
“The police officer in the lobby asked me if I wanted to file a report,” I said.
Judith stood up, her leather gloves creaking as she clenched her fists. “You wouldn’t dare make a scene out of a clumsy slip.”
“It wasn’t a slip,” I said.
Graham did not move from the sink, but his eyes went from his mother’s face to the floor.
“Nora,” he said, his voice very low. “We don’t need to do this here.”
“Do what, Graham?” I asked.
Judith took a step toward the bed, her face tight and pale under her makeup. “You have always been so sensitive about every little thing, Nora. Just like your mother was before she moved away.”
“Leave my mother out of this,” I said.
