Chapter 6: The Number

The night nurse was waiting for me in the corridor with her coat still on.

She had been there since three twelve, and nobody had told her she could go home.

"I called as soon as it started," she said. "She kept asking for you."

"I know. I'm sorry I didn't pick up."

"You don't have to be sorry to me." She squeezed my hand. "She said you'd come. She said it twice."

My mother lay with her hands folded, and somebody had pulled the blanket up to her chin.

The bruise on her cheekbone had gone yellow.

I took the gray cardigan out of my bag and slid her arms into the sleeves, one at a time.

"You said you were cold," I told her.

I sat on the bed and held her hand until it stopped feeling like hers.

The blue bowl still sat on the windowsill.

There were ten plums in it now, not nine.

"Who brought the extra one?" I asked.

"Her visitor came last night," the nurse said. "It was off his usual day. She'd asked for him."

"What time?"

"After ten. He stayed with her until midnight. He sat right where you're sitting."

"Who is he?"

"She never gave his name. She told us just to let him in."

I looked at the plum on top.

It was the biggest one.

A knock came at the open door.

The center's administrator stood there in a black dress, holding a clipboard against her chest.

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