“Hi, Annie. This is Sheila. I wanted to check in on Mom. How’s she doing today?”
“Cloudy, with a chance of rain,” the nurse said.
Sheila winced, knowing that meant Mom didn’t recognize anyone today. These were quiet days, but her sweet spirit exuded no matter what that nasty disease did to her brain. She’d toddle around in a daze, sweetly smiling and nodding, on those days that Nurse Annie reported her as “cloudy.”
“Can I just tell her that I love her? Do you think it will upset her?” Sheila’s heart ached.
“She won’t understand that it’s you, but no harm in it. Give me just a minute. I’ll put her on.”
In the background, Sheila heard Nurse Annie talking to Mom. “Miss Cynthia. Someone is on the telephone for you. Can you take a listen? Yes, for you.”
“Hi, Miss Cynthia,” Sheila said. “This is Sheila, and I just wanted to call to wish you a blessed day, dear.”
“Sheila.” The words came out as a statement. It was clear to Sheila that Mom wasn’t sure who she was speaking to today. Again. “That’s nice of you to call,” Mom said. “What is today?”
“It’s Friday. I hope you had a delicious Thanksgiving dinner yesterday. Did you have turkey?”
“I think so. The pie was my favorite.” There was a long pause. “Were you here?”
“No, I wasn’t, but I’m glad you had a wonderful day. Did you have a nice visit?”
“I think so.” Silence on the other end was broken by a slight muffle. “Maybe.”
She could picture Mom’s blue eyes, wide with wonder. “You are loved.” Sheila gulped back the last syllable. “Always.”
“Thank you, young lady. Happy Thanksgiving.”
Sheila hung up the phone and swallowed back tears. “I miss you, Mom.”
When Sheila woke up the next morning, she was still on the couch in yesterday’s pajamas. No one in their right mind was house-hunting or doing open houses on Thanksgiving weekend, but next week would be intense, so she needed to get some things done. They had open houses set Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and she had a long list of things to gather in preparation.
She jumped in the shower and got dressed in jeans and a winter-white corduroy shirt over a taupe turtleneck, taupe woven belt, and boots. She always liked to look nice, even casually. A quick twist in the mirror, and she opted to keep it simple. No earrings today.
She picked up her purse and keys and headed outside. The sun was bright, but the wind had a bit of a nip. Even so, she opted to drive her new car, rather than the big four-door Mercedes. The Tesla had been a splurge, but when one of her clients offered it to her for way under the value it was too good to pass up. In the divorce, his wife was making him sell it so she could get half the money. According to him, he’d rather lose money on the car than give her half what it was worth. And the deal was made.
So, until she sold the vehicle, she drove it on weekends and was loving it a lot more than she’d expected.
She went through her list of things for the last open house of the year. She was in pretty good shape, and it was still a week out, so she headed downtown to the antique shop where she’d seen that pretty teapot. It would be perfect for Orene.
At least Small Business Saturday was a more civil day to shop.
Luck was on her side when she spotted a parking spot right in front of the store. She went inside and made a beeline for the intricately carved vintage wood and glass trolley cart that it had been sitting on. She stopped short. Neither the cart nor the teapot was there. She spun around, looking to see if she’d misjudged the location by an aisle or two.
“Can I help you?” a pretty brunette asked.
“Hi. Yes. I was in here a couple of weeks ago. I saw a really pretty carved wooden cart right around here somewhere.”
“Oh gosh. Wasn’t that a beauty? I’m sorry. It sold.”
“Well, that’s fine, because I was really interested in the teapot that was sitting on it. Is it, by chance, still around?”
“The Tiffany-style one?”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“Actually, that was a lamp. I know what you’re talking about. I put it over here with a few other teapots I have.” She hooked her finger and led the way toward the front of the store.
“Oh gosh. I have a friend who collects teapots. It was so unusual. I’m disappointed that it’s not a real teapot.”
