Chapter 6: The Graceful Landing

Agnes put two cushions on the carpet and asked me to look helpless.

I looked at the cushions.

"They seem better prepared."

"A little delicate alarm," she said.

"You're presenting it with such determination."

I sat on the bed instead.

The bedroom window faced the garden where Lucan had touched my hair.

Remembering it made the cushions more offensive.

My aunt placed one hand against her own forehead.

She bent gracefully toward the carpet.

Halfway down, her knees objected.

She sat abruptly on the cushions and looked annoyed with them.

"It was easier when I was younger," she said.

I offered her my hand.

She ignored it and pulled herself up by the bedpost.

I knew she disliked needing help.

I wished she'd noticed that about me too.

"Let's try the chair," she said.

She moved it toward the cushions.

"If your knees fail, the seat receives you."

"The seat already receives me," I pointed out.

"That's how chairs work."

She put the cushions on the chair instead.

I sat down at her insistence.

The extra height put my feet above the floor.

"Now lean gently backward," Agnes instructed.

I did.

The chair was too soft to permit a dignified return.

My aunt watched me struggle against a cushion and became angry on my behalf.

"That upholstery is ridiculous."

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