Monkey Wrench

“Oh, I have a date at Marge’s Diner. I promised a friend I’d lend her my coffeepot.”

“Hold it!” Susannah cried. “What about going to see Dr. Phelps?”

Rose waved her hand breezily. “The office won’t open until nine, I’m sure. I have plenty of time to get down to Marge’s and back.”

“See here, Granny Rose! Give me a minute to dress and I’ll drive you down. After last night, you shouldn’t be wandering around the streets of Tyler—”

“Why not?” Rose demanded, spinning on Susannah and startling the younger woman with the fire in her gaze. “I’ve lived here all my life, and I’ve never once so much as tripped over a crack in the sidewalk between here and the diner! I can hotfoot my way down there and back in fifteen minutes.”

“But—”

“You’re not my baby-sitter, you know!”

“If you’d just slow down a little—”

“The day I slow down is the day I die!”

Susannah held her tongue, ashamed that she’d upset her grandmother. She felt her face grow hot.

Clearly chagrined, Rose leaned forward and gave Susannah a kiss on her cheek. Then she turned and led the way down the stairs, saying over her shoulder, “Help yourself to tea or coffee. I just put some muffins in the oven—banana and pecan, a new recipe. We’ll try them when I get back from the diner. Listen for the timer, please?”

“Of course.” Susannah followed, not bothering to tie the sash on her robe but tiptoeing barefoot down the stairs.

“After breakfast, I’ll help you pack for your trip. You are leaving today, aren’t you?”

“Not until I’ve heard what your doctor has to say.”

“Oh, I’m fine this morning.” As if sensing Susannah’s disapproval, Rose added hastily, “But if it will make you happy, I’ll call for an appointment as soon as I get back. He keeps Saturday hours and will fit me in, I’m sure. Then you can go off and have a wonderful vacation!”

Susannah didn’t argue further. She said, “I wish you’d let me go along to the diner.”

“That’s silly. I’ll be back in two shakes. Why don’t you read the paper while I’m gone? It’s on the porch, I’m sure.” From the enormous walnut armoire in the hallway, Rose removed an ancient duffel coat and pulled it on. “Just save me the front page and the obituaries—the important stuff. I’ll go out the back door.”

“Surely you won’t ride your bike!”

Rose Atkins had long ago forsaken the automobile as her primary mode of transportation. Instead, she pedaled a three-wheeled, adult-size tricycle all over town—to the grocery, the local diner and her various meetings with friends and clubs. Although Rose claimed she used the bike for ecological concerns, Susannah suspected her failing eyesight was the primary reason she’d decided not to drive her car anymore.