Chapter 17: Do You Hurt Her Feelings

My mother inspected the clinic with her purse on her arm and one finger running along the edge of every shelf.

"Dusty," she said, at the pharmacy.

"It's a lake road, Mom."

"Wanjiru's shelves aren't dusty. I checked."

She had met Wanjiru at the gate.

In four minutes the two of them had traded the names of their hip surgeons and their blood pressure pills.

By noon they were walking arm in arm.

Clayton she met by the generator shed.

He took off the hat and stood there with the hammer in his hand.

My mother looked at him from his thinning hair to his sandals.

"You've lost weight," she said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"You look dreadful."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I told you to ask her about the bathroom." Her voice did not rise. "I did not think you'd ask once at dinner."

"No, ma'am."

"Or that you'd go off and eat christening cake."

"No, ma'am."

"Eat something," my mother said, and went on.

Clayton looked at me, stricken, and I had to turn away so he wouldn't see my face.

She met Alec at the long table in the yard, at supper, when Wanjiru put a bowl of fish stew in front of her.

He stood up to shake her hand.

"Dr. Reeve," my mother said. "I understand you've been sleeping with my daughter."

The whole table stopped.

Wanjiru put down the ladle.

"Yes, ma'am," Alec said.

"Is it serious?"

"Yes."

"Do you drink?"

"Occasionally, with the head nurse, after a long delivery."

"Do you go to church?"

"The clinic chapel is a tin shed. I fix the roof."

"Do you hurt her feelings?"

"I'd try not to," Alec said. "I'd say it first when I did."

My mother studied him for a very long moment.

"Sit down, then," she said. "You're blocking Wanjiru's light."

There was a gust of laughter, and Wanjiru raised her cup to him over the table.

Across from me, Clayton stared at his stew with his mouth shaking, trying not to laugh and failing.

My mother reached over and squeezed my hand under the table.

"Marissa left something at the house," she whispered. "I'll tell you tomorrow."

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