Her mother had called from the living room but appeared in the foyer with surprising speed. “Thank goodness you’re here. Something terrible has happened.”
“What is it?” Emily’s heart jumped. “Is it Ezra?”
What a fool I was to leave them alone. They didn’t even get through his first day home. I knew this was a recipe for disaster. Even with Mrs. Fallon here—
“Ezra is fine. Comfortable as a clam.” Her mother waved a thin, bony hand, heavy with antique rings. “It’s Mrs. Fallon. Her daughter, rather. We just had a call. There’s been an accident. Holly is in the hospital. Yale Medical Center, so that’s good. Not critical, thank goodness, but very serious. An injury to her back. They’re not sure yet if she’ll need surgery.”
Emily gasped out loud. “The poor woman . . . what about the babies?”
“The children are home with their father, safe and sound,” Lillian cut in, dispelling her fears about the triplets. She turned and walked back into the living room, leaning heavily on her cane with each step.
“Martha wants to go down there right away,” Lillian added. “At least until they can get some help in.”
Emily nodded. She knew how devoted Mrs. Fallon was to her only child, Holly, and her husband—and now her three, practically newborn, grandchildren.
She doubted Mrs. Fallon would return to Massachusetts any time soon, even if Holly and her husband did bring in more help. Her mother was fooling herself to think otherwise. Mrs. Fallon was a dedicated employee, no question, but her family needed her now.
“Where is she?” Emily asked.
“Upstairs in her room, packing.” Her mother balanced on her cane a second, then dropped heavily onto the sofa. “She’s driving to New Haven tonight. The sensible thing would be to wait until the morning, but she won’t listen to reason.”
Emily didn’t reply. Lillian had always been a very reasonable parent, never swept away by emotions, rarely rushing anywhere on her daughters’ behalf. Emily had harbored her share of disappointments about Lillian’s mothering. But she had learned to forgive and let go, to accept her mother for who she was.
“This accident leaves us in the lurch, doesn’t it?” Lillian admitted. “At least for a few days.”
“I think Mrs. Fallon needs to be with her family, Mother. Probably for a few weeks.”
Lillian looked surprised at that prediction. “A few weeks? Do you really think so? That doesn’t work out for us at all . . .”
“Mother, it’s her daughter, with three infants. Even if Holly doesn’t need surgery, she’ll definitely need a lot of help right now—and the peace of mind of having her mother there.”
Her mother’s mouth twisted, as if she were struggling to swallow something very sour. “I suppose . . . Oh, here she is.” Lillian hoisted herself up on her cane as Mrs. Fallon came down the stairs. Emily heard an odd bumping sound, then saw the housekeeper carrying two large suitcases, one in each hand. She set them down in the foyer, near the front door.
Well, that was a clue right there. She planned on staying in Connecticut as long as she needed to, no question.
Mrs. Fallon came into the living room, and Emily greeted her. “I’m so sorry to hear about Holly. Have you heard anything more?”
The older woman looked as if she had been crying. “Thank you, Emily. No, David hasn’t called back yet. I just want to get down there to see her. Especially if she’s going to have an operation tonight.”
“Yes, of course. We’ll all be thinking of your family and praying for them. Especially for Holly.” Emily gently touched Mrs. Fallon’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Emily. I’m sorry to leave you all in the lurch like this, with Dr. Elliot so sick—”
“Don’t worry about that now. We’ll be all right. You need to be with Holly and David, and your grandchildren,” Emily assured her. She glanced at her mother. “Isn’t that right, Mother?”
Lillian paused a moment, then nodded quickly. “Yes, of course. Such sad news. We wish you all the best. You’d better get on the road, Martha. It’s a long drive.”
Emily knew that in her mother’s mind, Mrs. Fallon was abandoning them. Her farewell barely masked her annoyance.
Mrs. Fallon didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she was used to Lillian by now and just ignored her slights.
“Yes, I should get going. I just want to say good-bye to Dr. Elliot,” she added. She turned and headed for his room, with Emily and Lillian behind her.
Ezra was sitting up in bed, reading a book. He quickly put it aside when he saw Mrs. Fallon.
“Any more news?” he asked with concern.
Mrs. Fallon shook her head. “Just the same that I told you before. I’m going now, Dr. Elliot. I’m sorry to leave you like this, but—”
“Now, now. Don’t you be apologizing to me. Don’t give it a thought. It will help Holly enormously to see you by her bedside. Best medicine in the world, I guarantee it. Godspeed, Martha. Give us an update on Holly when you can. We’ll be praying for you all,” he promised.
He took her hand in his, and Mrs. Fallon leaned down and gave him a quick hug.
“Good-bye now. I’ll be in touch,” Mrs. Fallon promised.
Lillian and Ezra said good-bye again, and Emily walked her to the front door. “Do you need any help with your bags?” she asked.
“Oh, I can do it. Never pack more than you can carry. That’s my rule for traveling.” She leaned over and grabbed her bags; luckily, she was quite strong.
Emily opened the door for her. Mrs. Fallon paused before she walked through. “I hope it works out here with your parents. I know how important it is to your mother to have Dr. Elliot at home while he recovers.”
“I’m going to stay over here tonight, and we’ll figure it out tomorrow.” Emily had already made that decision, though she’d had no time to call home and tell her husband, Dan. “I’m sure we can get some help in here quickly. No need to give it another thought. You have a safe trip.”
The door closed behind Mrs. Fallon, and Emily wondered if her assurances were true. She braced herself for a royal battle with her mother about bringing help in. They would need someone here around the clock. Total strangers, her mother would complain.
But what was the alternative? Send Ezra to a rehabilitation center, as his doctor had first suggested. She already knew what her mother thought about that. And she also knew her mother would do her best to sabotage every health care helper that stepped through the door.
Then what?
Emily dreaded the answer to that question.
Chapter Four
AS EMILY EXPECTED, LINING UP QUALIFIED HELP FROM A home nursing service was not a problem. How long those helpers would last at her mother’s house was the question. They had been through this before, when her mother had fallen and broken her hip. Emily and her sister, Jessica, both dreaded dealing with the situation again. There was no reason to think it would go any more smoothly. Their mother was already boiling oil to toss over the castle walls at the invaders.
Emily had called Jessica the night before, filling her in on Mrs. Fallon’s sudden, game-changing departure. Jessica, always willing to help, had arrived bright and early Wednesday morning so Emily could run back home and change for work. But from the moment she opened her eyes, Lillian debated the need for twenty-four-hour help, insisting to her daughters that it wasn’t necessary. Emily, fearing Lillian would never let the new hire past the door, decided to put on her clothes from the day before and stay, at least until the aide arrived. Sometimes it took both of them to handle their mother.
Alice Briggs seemed promising. She greeted Emily with a calm, confident smile and an attitude to match. Lillian tried to intimidate her as soon she set foot in the house, questioning her credentials and experience. Alice was unflustered, easily fending off this first attack.
Emily and Jessica glanced at each other. Round one, Alice—a hopeful sign. But there was no guarantee Nurse Briggs would last until lunch.
While Ali
ce hovered over Ezra, taking his vital signs, and Lillian hovered over Alice, the sisters slipped into the kitchen.
“She’s the brassy type. I like that. I think she’ll give Mother a fair fight,” Emily predicted in a low tone.
“Let’s hope so,” Jessica agreed. “You go, Em. I’ll stay a little longer, see how it goes. I don’t have to be in until eleven; I have late hours today.”
Jessica worked at a bank in town. She had been there many years, off and on, as her three children were growing up, and was now a senior manager. Even though they both worked on Main Street, the sisters rarely had the chance to meet, for lunch or even coffee. It was usually some family gathering or problem with their mother that brought them together. Emily wished she had more time with her sister. Even though Jess was nine years younger, she was still Emily’s best friend.
“If you have the time to spare, I’m going to run home and change. I hope I don’t need to start leaving things here.”
“Don’t even say it,” Jessica warned. Years ago, after Lillian had taken a fall, Emily had practically been living there until her older daughter, Sara, actually did move in to help her grandmother.
“Good point; I won’t. But even if Mother tolerates Alice, there are two more aides coming, one at five o’clock and one at eleven. They really need round-the-clock care right now.”
“We’ll just have to see how the rest of the helpers add up. So far, so good?” Jessica offered optimistically.
“I guess so. But even if these nurses work out, we’ve still just solved half the problem. If only we could find one person, who would live in and also do some light cooking and housework. Like Mrs. Fallon.” Those chores were not really covered by the aides they had hired.
“Mrs. Fallon is one in a million,” Jessica said.
“She gets along with Mother, so I’d guess she’s one in a trillion,” Emily corrected her before giving her sister a quick hug and heading on her way. She could hear her mother and Alice Briggs conversing in an animated tone.
“. . . but he always has a shower in the evening,” Lillian was saying.
“It’s healthier in the morning,” Alice countered.
Oh dear, they’re at it already, Emily thought as she slunk out of the house. Her mother was a tireless opponent and relished a battle of wits . . . or of “nitwits,” as she was likely to call it.
Alice Briggs had no idea what she was up against.
* * *
EMILY FINISHED WORK EARLIER THAN USUAL. IT WAS JUST FOUR o’clock, but she was dragging after not sleeping well at her mother’s the night before, and she decided to head home. But first she swung by Providence Street to see how things were going.
As Emily walked up the path to the front door, she braced herself. Lillian had called twice and left long messages. No emergencies, thank goodness, just petty problems with Ms. Briggs. Emily was sure Lillian had a laundry list of complaints by now.
Instead of using her key, she rang the bell. Her finger had barely lifted off the button when the front door flew open. Emily expected to see her mother. But it was Alice Briggs, coat on and medical bag clamped beneath her arm.
“You’re here. Good. I was just going to call . . . I can’t wait for the evening nurse. I have to go.” Ms. Briggs swept past her, practically knocking Emily out of the way as she left the house.
“But . . . wait . . . you’re supposed to stay until five. Until the next nurse gets here.”
Alice Briggs turned at the bottom of the steps. “I’m sorry. Mrs. Elliot is impossible. I can’t work under these conditions. I’m a qualified professional. I don’t have to take that sort of abuse.”
“I’m sorry. She can be very difficult, I know.” Emily followed her down the steps, trying explain. “I’ll talk to her. She’s just scared. She can’t stand losing her autonomy.”
Ms. Briggs shook her head. “I won’t be back tomorrow. I quit.” She adjusted the strap on her medical bag. “The agency will find someone. Call tonight. It’s not too late.”
Emily sighed and nodded. “I’ll do that.”
“Good night then, and good luck,” Ms. Briggs added in a tart tone. As if to say, “With your mother, you’ll need it.”
Emily already knew that. Well, the evening shift nurse would be around very shortly, she thought, checking her watch. Then the overnight nurse.
Her mother would probably run through all three of them and need replacements for tomorrow. She would call the agency right away and get to work on it. But she didn’t think this system would last very long, not more than another day or so. Then where would they be—back to square one?
* * *
LILLIAN HAD SEEN EMILY’S CAR PULL UP AND HAD PEEKED OUT THE window, watching her daughter and that horrid health aide converse.
She was greatly relieved when Emily had not been able to persuade that Briggs person to stay. Once she was sure the annoying woman was gone for good, Lillian hobbled back to Ezra’s room and sat in a chair by his bed, her cross-stitch project in hand.
“Mother, what is going on here?” Emily turned to Ezra, remembering her manners. “Hello, Ezra. How are you feeling?”
“I’m coming along, Emily, coming along.”
“No thanks to that Briggs woman. He’d be dead by now if I let her have her way.”
Emily’s eyes narrowed. “Really? And how is that? Did she contradict you on something? Suggest you serve prune juice instead of orange?”
Lillian shook her head, pulling the thread through the taut fabric with care. “No need to be sarcastic, Emily. The buck stops here with Ezra’s health. I have to oversee his care. Anyone can put on a uniform and pump up a blood pressure kit. That doesn’t make you a genius in my book.”
“Oh, Lily, she was perfectly competent,” Ezra said. “So she disagreed with you a few times. She was doing her job. You were much too hard on her. I hope you find some manners and apologize tomorrow.”
“Ha!” Lillian replied, not even looking up.
“Well, that boat has sailed, Mother. Ms. Briggs will not be returning. She just quit. But I think you already knew that.”
Lillian glanced over her reading glasses at Ezra. “See? What did I tell you? Totally unprofessional.”
“For goodness’ sake, you show no mercy, Lily,” Ezra chided her.
“It’s all right, Ezra,” Emily said. “I’ll call the agency. They’ll send someone else tomorrow morning.”
“My, what a drama. You’d think I chased off Florence Nightingale and Clara Barton rolled into one. Nurse Briggs talked a good game, but she was quite incompetent . . . and cocky. I saved Ezra from a medical catastrophe, and this is the thanks I get.”
Emily wondered if she should bother asking for details. Of course that line of questioning was futile. Her mother could not be trusted to relay the truth; she would make up anything at this point.
The door chimes sounded then. The second-shift nurse, right on time.
Lillian looked up and dropped her stitching into her lap. “Did you call your sister already?”
“It’s the second-shift nurse, Mother. Don’t you remember? You need help around the clock. Nine, five, and midnight. We discussed this.” Emily sighed as she headed to the door.
“Oh, bother,” Lillian said with vehemence. “I just get my house back, and another stranger comes barging in.”
Emily let in the new health aide, a woman in her midfifties with a round, pleasant face and a warm smile.
“How do you do? I’m Nancy Ames, from the agency.”
“Nice to meet you, Nancy. I’m Emily Warwick, Mrs. Elliot’s daughter and Dr. Elliot’s stepdaughter. He’s the patient.”
“Yes, I know. I read the medical report before I came.”
She had removed her coat and hung it on the rack in the foyer. Just like Alice Briggs, she wore a neat uniform and carried a medical bag. “May I meet the patient?”
“Of course. Come right this way.” Emily led her through the house. “Dr. Elliot is a very easy patient. My
mother, however, can be very demanding,” she said honestly. “She’s suspicious of anyone coming into the house.”
“Many seniors are like that. I understand,” she said calmly.
Nancy Ames seemed the opposite of Alice Briggs; soft-spoken, no hard edges or brassy confidence. Though she also seemed a solid, centered person, one who could stand her ground.
Emily introduced her to her mother and Ezra and, a short time later, left for home. Ms. Ames was looking over the records Ms. Briggs had left and asking Ezra questions. Lillian was interrupting, answering for him, but Ms. Ames remained calm, practically blending in with the woodwork. How could her mother find fault with that? Maybe this nurse had a better temperament for the household and her mother had been right to let the morning nurse go.
Emily was fast asleep that night when her cell phone rang, buzzing loudly on the nightstand. As the town’s mayor, she was often called in the middle of the night to be informed about emergencies. She sat up in bed and snapped on a light. The number was unfamiliar—not the police or fire chief or even the sanitation department.
“Emily Warwick,” she answered quickly.
“I’m sorry to wake you. This is Nancy Ames. There’s a problem at your mother’s house. I think we need your help.”
“What sort of problem? Is everyone all right?” Emily jumped out of bed and grabbed her robe.
“Your mother and Dr. Elliot are fine. But it’s the end of my shift. The night nurse is here. She’s outside. Your mother is refusing to let her in. She says she doesn’t want anyone else here tonight, and she wouldn’t be able to sleep with a stranger roaming around and—”
“Yes, yes, I understand,” Emily cut in.
“I offered to stay,” Nancy Ames added, “but she didn’t want that either.”
“That was good of you, thank you,” Emily said sincerely. “I’m sorry for your trouble. Where are you now?”
Emily could hear her mother in the background, talking in a harsh tone, though she couldn’t discern her words.
“I’m in the mudroom. Your mother wants me to go, but I told her I wouldn’t leave until I called you.”
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