“You know it.”
“OK, fine. But then we have to pick up your new meds. And I have work this afternoon, so we can’t linger.”
“And you have your little shopping date.”
“Grammy, for the last time—”
“I know, I know. You and that girl are only ‘friends.’ I’m just saying, you’d make a good-looking couple.”
I ignore this comment. “Anyway, Ms. Mills will be in to check on you and take a short walk around four, and then I’ll be home by six thirty at the latest.”
“That’s fine by me. I got shows to watch,” Grammy says. “Now, let’s get the hell away from here.”
“As you wish,” I say, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the street toward Dunkin.
CHAPTER 16Juniper
SONG OF THE DAY:
“Warm in December” by Samara Joy
Stella’s is one of those department stores
I wouldn’t normally set foot in
the first floorlined with glassy countertops
lipstick and skin-care displays
poster ads featuring gaunt celebrities
spritzing themselves dramatically
with some high-end scent.
Almost as old as Macy’s
only a local Michigan chain
it’s hard to imagine anyone but
Midwestern beauty queens and old white ladies
shopping at Stella’s.
But here I am
noonas promised
hair tucked into a beanie
wearing joggersa cream flannel
and high-top Chucks
waiting by the handbags
for Lyric.
