was cleaning up the kitchen, or Bill, who was in his study talking softly into his cell phone. While checking the bedrooms on the third floor, she noticed light streaming from under the attic door. She opened the door and tiptoed to the top of the stairs. Someone, presumably Lovie, had ransacked Jackie’s perfectly organized attic. Ripped-open cardboard boxes and brown packing paper littered the floor. An artificial tree lay toppled on its side, and one of the hurricane lanterns had fallen off a shelf, shattering into a million pieces on the floor. At the far end of the attic, Lovie was digging through an old steamer trunk, tossing out items left and right—a black feather boa, a pair of red satin heels, and a black beaded evening bag.
Faith arrived on the scene. “What’s she doing?”
“I don’t know,” Sam whispered. “She looks like a starving homeless woman digging through a dumpster for a leftover doughnut.”
Sam and Faith tiptoed across the wooden floor and eased up beside the trunk, careful not to startle their mother. “What are you doing up here, Mom?” Sam asked.
Lovie sat back on her knees. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m trying to find something.” She tossed a brimmed sun hat at Sam like a Frisbee, then returned her attention to the trunk.
Sam caught the hat and set it down on top of the battered dresser beside her. “We can see that, Mom. But what, exactly, are you looking for?”
Lovie’s eyes darted around the room. “I’m not sure.”
Sam took her mother’s arm, gently helped her up, and guided her over to an old wing chair. “Do you know where you are, Mom?”
“Of course,” Lovie said, with a blank expression on her face. She reached into her pocket and removed an antique key attached to a silver chain.
“What does the key fit, Mama?” Faith asked.
“I don’t know.”
Over their mother’s head, Sam and Faith exchanged a look of concern. “Just sit there and rest a minute,” Faith said, rubbing her mother’s back.
Lovie took several deep breaths, then tried to get up out of the chair.
Sam pushed her back down. “Not so fast. Where do you think you’re going?”
“To find my pocketbook. I need my car keys.”
Sam spotted Lovie’s silver quilted bag on the floor next to the trunk. “Here’s your bag, Mom. But your car is not here. Faith drove you to the party, and I’m taking you home.”
Lovie knitted her brows in confusion. “What party?”
Sam cut her eyes at Faith. “Jackie’s birthday party. But it’s almost over now. Time to go home.”
Sam and Faith each took one of their mother’s arms, and escorted her down the stairs and outside. Lovie shuffled, as though her feet were encased in concrete blocks, all the way down the driveway. Curtis had parked his motorcycle behind their cars, blocking them in. They settled Lovie on the wooden bench under the magnolia tree beside the mailbox.
Sam was headed back to find Curtis when he stumbled up with the children on his heels.
Jamie wheeled up beside his mother. “Where’d you find her?” he asked, his cheeks rosy and his words slightly slurred. He’d obviously had more than a couple of beers.
“I’ll explain later. Talk to her while we decide what to do.” Sam pulled Faith and Curtis aside.
“What’s wrong with your mama?” Curtis asked. “Has she finally gone and lost her mind?”
“Shut up, Curtis.” Faith elbowed him in the ribs. “This is serious.”
“Do you want me to go find the high and mighty Doctor Bill?” Curtis asked.
“No. There’s no sense in ruining Jackie’s party. I’ll call Bill from the hospital.” Sam turned to Faith. “I need to get Jamie settled in at home. Why don’t I meet you and Mom at the emergency room?”
“What about Bitsy? I can’t let her ride home on the back of the motorcycle with him.” Faith aimed her thumb at her husband, whose head was bobbing back and forth as he tried to follow their conversation.
“You have a point.”
Faith arrived on the scene. “What’s she doing?”
“I don’t know,” Sam whispered. “She looks like a starving homeless woman digging through a dumpster for a leftover doughnut.”
Sam and Faith tiptoed across the wooden floor and eased up beside the trunk, careful not to startle their mother. “What are you doing up here, Mom?” Sam asked.
Lovie sat back on her knees. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m trying to find something.” She tossed a brimmed sun hat at Sam like a Frisbee, then returned her attention to the trunk.
Sam caught the hat and set it down on top of the battered dresser beside her. “We can see that, Mom. But what, exactly, are you looking for?”
Lovie’s eyes darted around the room. “I’m not sure.”
Sam took her mother’s arm, gently helped her up, and guided her over to an old wing chair. “Do you know where you are, Mom?”
“Of course,” Lovie said, with a blank expression on her face. She reached into her pocket and removed an antique key attached to a silver chain.
“What does the key fit, Mama?” Faith asked.
“I don’t know.”
Over their mother’s head, Sam and Faith exchanged a look of concern. “Just sit there and rest a minute,” Faith said, rubbing her mother’s back.
Lovie took several deep breaths, then tried to get up out of the chair.
Sam pushed her back down. “Not so fast. Where do you think you’re going?”
“To find my pocketbook. I need my car keys.”
Sam spotted Lovie’s silver quilted bag on the floor next to the trunk. “Here’s your bag, Mom. But your car is not here. Faith drove you to the party, and I’m taking you home.”
Lovie knitted her brows in confusion. “What party?”
Sam cut her eyes at Faith. “Jackie’s birthday party. But it’s almost over now. Time to go home.”
Sam and Faith each took one of their mother’s arms, and escorted her down the stairs and outside. Lovie shuffled, as though her feet were encased in concrete blocks, all the way down the driveway. Curtis had parked his motorcycle behind their cars, blocking them in. They settled Lovie on the wooden bench under the magnolia tree beside the mailbox.
Sam was headed back to find Curtis when he stumbled up with the children on his heels.
Jamie wheeled up beside his mother. “Where’d you find her?” he asked, his cheeks rosy and his words slightly slurred. He’d obviously had more than a couple of beers.
“I’ll explain later. Talk to her while we decide what to do.” Sam pulled Faith and Curtis aside.
“What’s wrong with your mama?” Curtis asked. “Has she finally gone and lost her mind?”
“Shut up, Curtis.” Faith elbowed him in the ribs. “This is serious.”
“Do you want me to go find the high and mighty Doctor Bill?” Curtis asked.
“No. There’s no sense in ruining Jackie’s party. I’ll call Bill from the hospital.” Sam turned to Faith. “I need to get Jamie settled in at home. Why don’t I meet you and Mom at the emergency room?”
“What about Bitsy? I can’t let her ride home on the back of the motorcycle with him.” Faith aimed her thumb at her husband, whose head was bobbing back and forth as he tried to follow their conversation.
“You have a point.”
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