“But it would be inconvenient for me to wait for you to get cleaned up. You’ll make me late for my appointment.”
“Call whoever you’re meeting to let them know you’re going to be late.”
“I’m not going to do that.” Ms. Helen looked scandalized. “Why do you want to drive me to the community center anyway?”
Benita wrapped her arms around her waist. She was starting to shiver from the chill. “It’s not safe for you to drive.”
Ms. Helen’s eyebrows leaped in surprise. “Why not?”
“Aunt Helen, you’re older now. Your reflexes aren’t as good as they used to be. It’s safer for me to drive you, not just for you but for other drivers on the road.”
Ms. Helen gave her a blank look. “So you’re saying you should drive me?”
“That’s right.”
“How would I get home?”
“I’ll pick you up.” Benita’s enthusiasm for her plan was growing. “Just call me whenever you’re ready to leave. I don’t have any appointments today. I’m at your disposal.”
“Really?” Ms. Helen nodded. “So I ²should wait while you clean up and get dressed now. Then I should wait again—like a sack of potatoes—for you to come and collect me.”
It was faint, but Benita didn’t miss the note of irritation in her great-aunt’s voice. “I don’t mean to offend you, Aunt Helen. I’m concerned for your safety.”
“And the other drivers on the road.” Ms. Helen crossed her arms. “Benita, when you’re not here, do you think I sit in the house all day, wallowing in my dotage?”
“No, I—”
“That was a rhetorical question.” The older lady cocked her head. “I’ve achieved an age in which I can go wherever I want to go, whenever I want to go. And I don’t need you to take me there.” Ms. Helen spun on her modest heels and strode to the door.
“Aunt Helen—”
“I won’t be home for lunch, Benny.” Her great-aunt called over her shoulder. “So don’t wait for me.”
Chilled on the inside and outside, Benita watched Ms. Helen walk out the front door.
How can I convince the stubborn woman that I’m not trying to cramp her lifestyle? I’m trying to keep her safe.
It would be a lot easier if her great-aunt weren’t always flitting around. Benita mounted the staircase on her way to take a shower and clean up.
She’d supposedly retired fifteen years ago. But Aunt Helen has more meetings, appointments, and working lunches than most top-level recording company executives I know.
At loose ends about three hours later, Benita wandered into Books & Bakery in search of great company and a good lunch. It was barely noon on a Wednesday, yet the café was packed. Impressive.
She made her way to the counter. The line was long but moved briskly. Within minutes, hers was the next order up.
“Benita, it’s nice to see you.” Doreen’s brown eyes twinkled with welcome. She looked happy but tired. “What can I get for you?”
Benita checked the soup of the day. “I’d love some chili.”
Doreen reviewed the details of Benita’s order: cup or bowl, apple or fruit cup, drink? She handed Benita her change, then assured her she’d hear her name when her meal was ready.
Without an available table in sight, Benita chose a bar stool at the counter. She hung her tote bag on the back of her seat and settled in to people watch. An older man and an older woman
Benita didn’t recognize darted in and out of the kitchen, taking turns presenting lunch orders to customers as their names were called. Benita received her bowl of chili, apple, and lemonade minutes later.
“Hi, Benita.” The cheerful greeting from Megan came just after Benita’s first spoonful of chili.
“Whatever you’re paying Doreen for this masterpiece isn’t enough.” Her taste buds were doing the Macarena.