Tears in the Grass by Lynda A. Archer

Author:Lynda A. Archer [Archer, Lynda A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Dundurn
Published: 2016-05-14T04:00:00+00:00

22

Louise stared at the empty bed, the wrinkled white sheets. She swept back the curtain of the closet looking for, what, she didn’t know. Only the faint scent of tobacco remained. She pawed through the drawers in the bedside dresser. A button, a pebble, and a cigarette butt. Everywhere she looked, nothing. She asked the nurse if her mother had left a note. How could no one have noticed her absence?

“When did you last see her?” Louise asked.

“She was here at breakfast.” The nurse, half Louise’s age, smiled. “She ate everything. The past few days she was eating it all. No complaining. Often, she’d ask for seconds when we came to collect the tray. We would have been discharging her soon. I’m sure she’s not far away. Lots of old folks wander off. They get confused. Can’t figure how to get back. Or they find a comfortable couch and fall asleep.”

Not my mother, Louise thought. Elinor had been hoarding. Saving up for this scheme of hers, whatever it was. At ninety. Had she gone right around the bend this time? Yes, her mother had gotten stronger over the past week, but she wasn’t that strong. Was this a protest so she could go back to her own house?

“You’re sure she didn’t leave a note?” Louise asked. “Maybe with a nurse who’s gone off duty? Did she confide in anyone? Was there a favourite nurse?”

“Not that I’m aware of. If you’ll excuse the comment, I think your mother hated all the nurses equally. It was only in the past few days that she seemed to be more settled, less argumentative. And she was out walking the halls, going down to the lobby more regularly. We don’t lock patients in their rooms. We encourage them to get moving as soon as they can. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Louise nodded. She wanted to kick something.

From the window that overlooked the parking lot, she watched Alice getting out of her truck. Her parka was unzipped. A long red scarf hung to her knees, where it met her black boots. What was Elinor wearing? Louise asked herself. Or was she tucked in at someone’s house? An old friend? A new friend? Her mother never seemed to have difficulty picking up people. As cranky as she was with her family members, she exuded warmth and welcome with people in stores, on the street, on the road. If she was holed up at a friend’s, Louise had no idea who that might be or where they were. And the worst of it was, they’d lie if Elinor asked them to. Perhaps Lillian knew something.

Alice disappeared from Louise’s view; five minutes later she was in the room.

“Dad said you’d be here,” Alice said.

“This is probably the last place we should be.”

Alice unwound her scarf, tossed it on the bed. She said she shouldn’t have brought all the clothes — coat, boots, sweaters, and socks — that Elinor had asked her for. But she kept complaining, telling Alice it was freezing in the hospital.

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