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her account of the visit with Addison and Jim Randall.

“Let’s face it,” Judith said, wondering if she could

get back in bed by herself, “we don’t know if that was

a homicidal thief—or just a thief.”

“True.” Renie said. “Hey—you need some help?”

“Could you buzz?” Judith asked. “I don’t want to

undo anything.”

“You can lean on me,” Renie said, getting out of bed.

“Haven’t we each done quite a bit of leaning on each

other for the past fifty-odd years?”

Judith smiled fondly at her cousin. “Closer than sisters,” she murmured.

Renie stumbled over the commode. “Oops!” she cried,

then swore.

“Are you okay, coz?” Judith asked in alarm.

“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t really need ten toes. Here, I’ll

steady the wheelchair with my right hip and you lean

on my left side.”

To Judith’s surprise, the tactic worked. Judith inched

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217

her way onto the bed, sat on the edge to get her breath,

then let Renie help her swing her legs onto the mattress. Lying back on the pillows, Judith closed her eyes

and sighed.

“I can’t believe how glad I was to get out of bed and

go down the hall,” she said with a feeble smile. “Now

I can’t believe how glad I am to get back into bed. I’m

exhausted.”

“I know,” Renie said, heading back to her own bed.

“These surgeries take a lot out of us. And, sorry to say,

we aren’t spring chickens anymore.”

“I forgot to look out at the weather,” Judith said.

“What’s it doing?”

“Nothing,” Renie replied. “Dr. Ming stopped by

while you were gone to tell me I could start PT tomorrow. He said the temperature had dropped down to

eighteen degrees by four-thirty, but there was no snow

in the forecast for tonight. There’s black ice on the

streets, and, as usual, our city’s snow-removal crew—

you know, the two guys with the truck, the buckets,

and the shovels—hasn’t been able to sand any streets

except for the major thoroughfares.”

Judith nodded faintly. “We get snow so seldom,

sometimes not at all, that I guess the city doesn’t

feel it should spend money on something that might

not be needed for a couple of years at a time.” She

looked at her watch. “I didn’t realize how late it is.

It’s after five. I guess Joe wasn’t able to make it to

the hospital after all.”

“At least you spoke with him,” Renie said, irked. “I

haven’t heard a peep out of Bill all day. I know he hates

the phone, but it wouldn’t kill him to call and check in.”

“Maybe he got involved in trying to find your car,”

Judith suggested.

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Mary Daheim

“What’s he doing?” Renie retorted. “Conducting a

street-by-street search? Or is he too caught up with

those damned Chihuahuas?”

Judith tried not to smile as she envisioned Bill teaching the dogs to dance. Or fetch. Or make his lunch.

“The phones might be out of order in some parts of

town,” Judith said, trying to soothe Renie. “If there’s

ice, the lines could be down. In fact, if Blanche Van

Boeck wants to do something helpful for the city, she

should advocate better weather preparedness. Do you

really think she’s going to run for mayor?”

Renie had turned listless. “Who knows? Who cares?

Where’s dinner? What is dinner? My Falstaff bag’s

getting low.”

“Want to watch the news?” Judith asked in her most

cheerful voice.

“No. I hate television news. Why can’t we get an

evening paper?”

“They may not be able to deliver it,” Judith said,

clicking on the TV. “Look, there’s Mavis Lean-Brodie

again.”

“Why do we get only four channels on this stupid

set? Why can’t we get ESPN or Fox Sports so we

could watch basketball?”

“Mavis looks like she’s changed her hair color. It’s

much lighter. I like it.”

“How can I find out who’s heading for the NCAA

tournament? What about our own drippy pro basketball team? Why don’t I like hockey?”

“What’s the other anchor’s name? Tim Somethingor-Other?”

“I like the violence in hockey. I just don’t understand the game. And I never learned to ice-skate. I have

weak ankles.”

SUTURE SELF

219

“They don’t seem to be showing anything but the

weather. Goodness, the city really is paralyzed.”

“Without ESPN and Fox Sports, I can’t even keep

up with the Hot Stove League. How do I know which

baseball players have been traded in the off-season? I

might as well be in never-never land.”

“Look at all the event cancellations. Oh, here come

the school closures. Goodness, the entire public school

district and the private schools are shut down for the

duration.”

Dinner arrived, courtesy of the silent orderly. Judith

optimistically uncovered her entrée. It looked like

some kind of cutlet.

Renie turned her back on the orderly and buried her

head in the pillow. “Take it away. I can’t eat things that

look like high school science experiments.”

The orderly set the tray on the nightstand and wordlessly walked out.

“This isn’t bad,” Judith said, tasting her entrée. “It’s

pork.”

Renie didn’t look up until her phone rang. “Now

what?” she grumbled, yanking the receiver off the

hook. “Bill!” she cried in surprise. “I thought you’d

forgotten me. What’s going on with Cammy?”

Her sudden pleasure turned to consternation. “Oh?

That’s rotten luck. But it can’t be helped with all the

snow, I guess . . . Yes, I’m sure they’ll find the car

eventually . . . I’m doing okay, I’m just sore and hungry . . . Because it’s inedible, that’s why. Say, what

about those Chihuahuas?”

Judith watched her cousin closely, but Renie’s face

revealed only perplexity. “Well, you’re the psychologist, so I guess you know what you’re doing, but it

sounds kind of loony to me. Don’t you think the dogs’

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owners would like them back? . . . Yes, I know, the

weather . . .” Renie heaved a big sigh. “The weather is

putting a crimp in everything, from finding our car to

seeing you and the kids . . . Friday, unless they throw

me out, which Blanche Van Boeck has threatened to

do . . . Never mind, it’s a long story . . . You’re what?

Renie pulled a face, cradled the phone against her

shoulder, and made circular “he’s nuts” motions with

her finger by her ear. “Anne can’t sew any better than

I can. How could she and Tony make the damned dog

a Sea Auks uniform? Forget the dogs, how’s everything else going?”

This time, Renie’s face fell. She stared at Judith,

then turned away. “Really? That’s not good.” Her voice

sounded unnatural; she grew silent, listening intently.

“Yes . . . Yes . . . Yes . . . No. I wouldn’t dream of it.

Let me know what happens. Love you. Bye.” Renie

hung up and disappeared under the covers.

“What was that all about?” Judith asked. “At the

end, I mean.”

“Nothing,” Renie said in a muffled voice.

Judith, who had turned down the sound on the TV,

now turned off the set. “Is everything all right?”