go through aging crises. Lois got lost about a month ago and couldn’t get herself out of the parking lot, much less find her house. She kept coming back to the store, driving around and around the parking lot, until someone helped her. She knows it happened—she started walking instead of driving, and don’t let her tell you it was for the exercise.” He rolled his eyes skyward, where heavy, dark clouds loomed, just waiting to let go. “Who would take that kind of chance in unpredictable weather like this? A person could drown! It’s so she doesn’t get too far away from home before she realizes she doesn’t know where she is.”
Charlene was absolutely horrified. “This is impossible! She just returned from the Far East!” But in thinking about it, Charlene realized that that trip, a tour, had taken place over two years ago.
“Nevertheless…”
“What happened this morning?” Charlene asked. “Exactly.”
“I had one of the boys watch her walk down Rio Vista to make sure she turned toward her house, but she walked right by. She could have been going to visit someone, so Doug stayed with her just in case. She went another block, doubled back past her street again and finally sat on a retainer wall, in the rain, looking dazed. He asked her if he could help her and she started to cry.”
“Cry? My mother doesn’t cry! For God’s sake, this is crazy!”
Mr. Fulbright touched her arm and Charlene snatched it back as though burned. “She should see her doctor. It might be just a fluke, a medication screwup or—”
“She doesn’t take medication!”
“Well, maybe it’s something more serious. But Ms. Dugan, it’s something.”
The passenger door opened. “Are we going?” Lois wanted to know, that impatient edge back in her voice. “I could have been home by now!”
Mr. Fulbright crossed his arms. “Or in Seattle,” he muttered under his breath.
“Yes, Mom. Coming.” Then, feeling protective of Lois, she glared at the grocer for his cheek.
“Goodbye, Lois,” Mr. Fulbright said. “See you soon.”
“I doubt it,” she said, slamming the door.
“Well, thank you,” Charlene said. “Though I really think—”
“When you run a neighborhood market in an area with a large retired population,” he said, “there are some things you learn to watch for. They’re my charges. It won’t be that many years before I’ll benefit from having people watch after me now and again. Just as the postman keeps track if the mail stacks up, merchants keep an eye out for their regulars.”
“Thanks, but—”
“Get your mom to the doctor now. We don’t need a senseless tragedy just because it’s hard to think about Lois getting older.”
As Charlene fastened her seat belt, she muttered, “God, he’s annoying.”
“Tell me about it,” Lois said.
“I guess he knows what’s right for everyone, huh?”
“I never could stand that guy. He’s a hoverer, you know? Always looking over your shoulder when you pinch the grapes. Probably a pervert. I’m not shopping there anymore.”
“I can’t say I blame you, Mom. Especially if you’re going to find yourself held hostage in the back room.” Charlene shuddered, but not for thinking about Mr. Fulbright’s back-room office.
“The rhubarb stinks. Smells like fish and tastes like rubber.”
“Rhubarb?” Charlene couldn’t remember ever having rhubarb at her mother’s house.
“Let’s get moving. I think I have a hair appointment.”
“When did you start caring about rhubarb?”
“My mother always had a rhubarb cobbler on the Fourth of July. I wish I could remember if I made that hair appointment for today or next Tuesday. Damn!”
Charlene drove in silence for a moment. Then, with a sigh, she asked, “Why did you decide to walk to the market today of all days? It’s cold, and it’s drizzled on and off since morning.”
“I needed the exercise.”
“Really?”
“Why else would I walk?”
“Well…I don’t suppose a checkup would hurt,” Charlene suggested.
“I just had a checkup.”
“Well, another one won’t hurt.”
“I’m not going to the doctor and that’s the end of it.”
“Mom…”
“I said no.”
“Mom, I’m not going to argue with you—”
“Good! That will be a refreshing change.”
“I’m worried, that’s all.”
“Waste of energy. Worry about something you have some control over. This is out of your hands.”
She pulled up in front of Lois’s house, parked, killed the engine and turned to regard her mother. “Why are you acting like this?” she asked in a gentle voice.
“I’ve had a rough day,” Lois said, looking away from her daughter, out the window.
Haven’t we all, Charlene thought.
“I have things to do, Aida, so let me get my groceries and get busy.”
“Aida? Mom, you called me Aida. I think I’d better get you in the house and—”
Lois groaned as if in outraged frustration and threw open her car door. She pulled herself out with youthful agility and, once extracted, stomped her foot. “You’re starting to get on my last nerve! Get me my things and get out of my business!”
That’s when she knew. She wasn’t sure exactly what she knew, but she knew. The only Aida Charlene had ever known was an old cousin of Lois’s who’d been dead over thirty years. And while Lois was admittedly a frisky character, Charlene was unaccustomed to such anger and temper in her mother. Lois was going through some mental/medical crisis.
Trying to remain calm, she went to the trunk, pulled out two bags and handed one to Lois. She followed her mother up the walk to the front door. Lois got the door unlocked easily enough, and they went inside and put the groceries away without speaking. When the bags were folded and stowed on a pantry shelf, they stood and looked at each other across the butcher block.
“I’m very sorry,” Lois said. “I’m sorry you were bothered, sorry I was rude to you and sorry about what’s happening.”
“What is happening?” Charlene asked.
“Well,
