The moment they walked into Nana’s house, the waiting room smell hit Annamae like a perfume ad in a magazine. She turned to her mother, wrinkling her nose.
“How are we?” Nana greeted them in a singsong.
“We’re a little out of sorts,” Annamae’s mother sang back.
“Why,” said Annamae furiously, “is everybody using the royal we?”
Nana looked from one to the other like they were cards in a game of solitaire and she was calculating the most optimal move.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Annamae’s mother said meaningfully.
“Mom!” protested Annamae.
“Don’t be sorry, Jo,” said Nana. Then added out of the side of her mouth, “And certainly don’t say sorry.”
“Yeah,” said Annamae. She accidentally caught Nana’s eye and smirked, which made Nana laugh, which gave her mother the impression it was all right for her to laugh, too, which it was not; it was adding insult to injury, and Annamae found herself pushing her mother, imploring, “Just go, Mom. Just go.”
Nana walked her mother to the car. Annamae remained in the front hall, looking out of one of the skinny windows that flanked the front door. They were covered with a frosty leaf pattern that chopped the view to bits. “Privacy glass,” Nana called it, but if you stood with your face very close, you could see between the leaves. This is what Annamae did; she stood with her face very close and watched chopped-up bits of her mother and Nana talking in the driveway. Then her mother got in the car and drove away.
“Well,” said Nana when she came back in. “We’ve got a packed agenda.”
“What do you mean?”
Nana proceeded to lay it out: Brunch, dry cleaning, post office, library, icebox cake, constitutionals—
“What’s that?”
An old-fashioned word for taking a walk. “To improve one’s constitution,” said Nana, rolling the r theatrically.
Annamae studied Nana’s eyes. They weren’t doing that darty thing. “I’m glad your ataxia’s better.”
“You and me both.”
And tomorrow if the weather held, they could ride the ferry.
“What ferry?”
The ferry landing in Nana’s town. Annamae had forgotten about that, how when she and Danny were little, they used to go watch the ferries dock and depart.
“Where will we ride it to?” asked Annamae.
“Nowhere!” As if that’s what made it a treat.