Why Two Electric Hair Clippers Appeared on the Dance Floor at Our Reception
She was wearing the bright blue silk headscarf, tied in a neat knot at the base of her skull.
“You do not need to bring me food, Clara,” she said, her voice short and breathless.
“Well, I was at the grocery store anyway,” I said, setting the bags on her kitchen table.
I looked toward the hallway where the gold-framed mirror hung, but the bathroom door was shut.
“I have plenty of soup in the freezer,” Maribel said, her trembling fingers adjusting the edge of her blue scarf.
“I thought we could talk about the wedding programs,” I said, leaning against the counter. “We chose the satin ribbons yesterday.”
“Evelyn told me,” Maribel said. She did not offer me a seat.
“Maribel, are you feeling alright?” I asked.
She adjusted the scarf again, her fingers moving to the knot under her collar.
“The weather is turning,” she said. “The dampness gets into my chest.”
“Is that why you are wearing the scarf inside?” I asked.
“The house has a draft,” she said. “The furnace is old.”
“We could have Mason look at the vents this weekend,” I said.
