Antiques Wanted by Barbara Allan

Author:Barbara Allan [Allan, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

A Trash ’n’ Treasures Tip

Check out all areas of a white elephant sale. Sometimes people carry around an item for a while, then decide against the purchase (or see something they like better) and abandon it where they happen to be. If someone has something in hand that Mother really wants, she will follow the person around in case that might happen. In that case, I find myself trailing her, humming the Jaws theme to myself. Softly.

Chapter Seven

Rollin’, Rollin’, Rollin’

With my windshield like a personal movie screen, I watched helplessly as the runaway wheelchair carrying Mother on a single wheel raced across the road, the single free-range tire bouncing down into the ditch.

Quickly, I pulled the C-Max off the highway, gave Sushi a command to stay inside, got a “who do you think you’re talking to” look (but she obeyed), jumped out, and ran to the top of the ravine.

Mother was sitting at the bottom, in the tall grass, legs extended. To her left lay the single tire; to her right, the tipped-over wheelchair, attached wheel still spinning like a roulette wheel on the Lady Luck riverboat.

“Mother!” I cried, quickly descending. “Are you all right?”

She looked up. “Quite so, dear—thanks to a soft landing. Those Danish curves do come in handy, from time to time!”

I crouched next to her. She somehow looked both dazed and alert.

I said, “You shouldn’t move until the ambulance comes.”

She frowned. “You haven’t called one, have you?”

My cell phone was poised in my hand. “Not yet.”

“Don’t,” she said firmly. “I’m fine. Let’s not waste Medicare’s money—they say it’s going to run out in twenty years unless we’re more frugal, and I plan on still being around.”

Only Mother could worry about such things at a time like this.

Mr. Burnett appeared at the top of the embankment, as white as a ghost and as startled as if he’d just seen one. He came scurrying down toward us.

“My goodness,” the overweight manager exclaimed, out of breath. “I saw the accident from my office window. Mercy sake! Has an ambulance been summoned?”

I rose from my crouch. “She doesn’t want one.”

Hands on hips, like a plump, capeless Superman, Burnett looked down at Mother. “Now, Mrs. Borne, you need to get checked out at the hospital.... We must make sure your feet weren’t injured.”

“My feet were well-protected in their casings,” she retorted. “Furthermore, I feel fine—except for my posterior. There should have been more padding in the seat. Fortunately there was sufficient in mine.”

To break the stalemate, I asked Burnett, “What if your head nurse examined her? And if she sees anything troubling, I’m sure Mother would agree to go to the hospital.”

The man touched his chin. “Well . . . Joan is quite competent, so, yes—I would accept her evaluation.”

“Mother?” I asked the still seated traveler. “Will you?”

She nodded.

This was Mother at her most devious. If the evaluation meant a trip to the ER, she would surely claim she’d never verbally agreed, and that her nod had been misinterpreted.

Burnett was saying, “I’ll go make arrangements with the transport van.

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