Page 50 of Potion Sickness

Jessica, the woman at the front desk at Hemlock Hill, has our name badges printed before we’re through the door.

“She’s been rowdy all week,” Jessica says. “She had me take dictation the other day.”

She hands Pru a half sheet of notepaper.

Pennies

the hedge

Prudence: nail scissors, small ones

NOT the ones she brought

Tell M. It’s green

(she won’t say what’s green)

“How is she today?” Pru asks.

“Sharp this morning. She told the podiatrist his mother worries about him, and he had to go sit down.” Jessica waves us through. “She’s on the porch. She’s in a mood about the chairs.”

* * *

“There was a dispute,” Aunt Genie says, before either of us can sit.

“About what?” Pru asks.

“His radio,” she says, nodding toward the man asleep a few chairs down. She lifts the corner of the bakery bag I’ve set on the little table, looks inside, and nods once.

“Two turnovers and a cardamom loaf,” I say. “Dorcas supervised. There’s nothing in there with a seed in it.”

“That’s what you said last time and I found a fennel.” She takes my hand and pats it. “Who cut your hair?”

“Tiffany at Shear Magic.”

“Mm. She did a nice job. Her grandmother always did a nice job. It’s her mother who shouldn’t be trusted around a pair of scissors.”

Pru sits and hands over a paper bag from the pharmacy — she brought nail scissors, at Genie’s request. Genie inspects them for a moment and makes a face. “I told you to bring small scissors.”

“No you didn’t. You told Jessica that I brought the wrong ones, before I brought them, and I only received the memo when we got here.”

“Bring small ones next time.”

“Yes, mother.”

“So,” Genie says. “Somebody knocked out your Macbeth.”

“Indeed they did,” I say.

“Tell me the story properly. I’ve only heard bits and bobs from Prudence. You know she doesn’t like talking about her old beau.”

“Mom—”

I cut in before Pru can protest and fill Genie in properly. She listens, her eyes focused on the hedge across the lawn, the one clipped into the shape of a bird.

“Well,” she says, when I’m finished. “I don’t see anything clearly that can help you. I haven’t seen anything yet, I mean. I saw a tangled mess of green, and some figures. Some people. Did I tell you? Did I call?”

“You called Pru. Twenty-six times.”