We rarely worry about the correct things.
Beth Cardall’s Diary
Friday morning Matthew came by the cleaners. Roxanne was up front when he came in.
“Is Beth here?”
“She sure is,” she said. “You’re Matthew?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“My mother is ma’am. I’m Rox. I’ll get her for you.” She ran back to get me, her face bright with excitement. “He’s here.”
“Who’s here?”
“Him. Matthew.”
“Oh.” I looked up through the glass. He was standing there, his hands in his pockets. I hung up the trousers and walked up front.
He smiled when he saw me. “Good morning.”
“Hi.”
“I was just making sure we’re still on for tonight.”
I nodded. “I found a babysitter.”
He smiled. “Awesome. Then I’ll see you at seven.”
“Seven it is.”
“Do you like Italian food?”
“I love Italian.”
“Great. I was thinking dinner and a movie.” He just stood there awkwardly, then said again, “Well, great. See you at seven.” He turned and walked out.
Roxanne walked in before the front door closed. “Girl, that boy is smitten.”
“Will you quit spying on me?”
“No way.”
I shook my head and walked back to the press. Roxanne followed me back.
“So what are you and the hunk doing on your date?”
“Dinner and a show.”
“No show—bad choice for a first date. Movies are for old, boring couples who have run out of things to say. Like me and Ray.”
“It’s not my choice.”
“You’re the woman, it’s always your choice. Just take your time at dinner and then suggest something else. Trust me, smitten as he is, he’s eager to please.”
“Suggest something else, like what?”
“Girl, you’re almost thirty. Think of something.”
I shook my head. “No. Absolutely not. Nothing physical. Not even a kiss.”
“Are you really trying to run him off?”
“Maybe. Besides, he said he just wants to be friends.”
She looked at me incredulously. “He didn’t say that.”
“Yes, he did.”
“He really said that?”
“Yes,” I repeated. “He really said that.”
“When?”
“At the supermarket.”
“Then he’s a liar. Men never want to just be friends. And if he does, then you should really worry.”
“That’s what I told him.”
“Good, you’re not completely numb.” She touched my hair. “When was the last time you got a cut?”
“Five weeks ago.”
“It’ll pass. So here’s what you do. After dinner, get a coffee to go, drive up Millcreek Canyon and just sit in the car and talk.”
“Why don’t we just get a coffee at the restaurant?”
“This isn’t about food, it’s about strategic placement.”
I held up my hands. “Stop right there. This isn’t about strategic anything. I have no place in my life for complications. If he can carry a conversation, we’re fine. If not, then lucky me, I dodged a bullet.”
Roxanne sighed. “Okay, fine. You’re right. Boring as all get out, but right. What time is he coming over?”
“Seven.”
“Jan will be over at 6:45. And I expect a full report in the morning.”
“That I can do. Now let me work, boss.”
“Okay, okay.” As she walked back out front, she shouted after me, “Remember, full report.”
I smiled. I love that woman.
Jan arrived around six-thirty. I had just gotten out of the shower when Charlotte let her in. I came out wrapped in a towel.
“Hi, Mrs. C.” Jan was dressed in a maroon baby-doll dress with black tights and a denim jacket.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I thought I said seven.”
“You did,” Jan said brightly, “I’m off the clock until seven. You know, I just love hanging with my Char.”
“Thanks, honey. I made Charlotte some Ramen noodles for dinner. I’ll be in the bathroom getting ready.”
I went back and got dressed then started on my makeup. It had been a while since I’d put that much time in at the mirror and it made me happy. It felt good to feel pretty again. I was putting on my mascara when I heard Jan scream, “Mrs. Cardall! Mrs. Cardall!”
I dropped my mascara and ran out to the kitchen. Charlotte was lying on the kitchen floor shaking. Her eyelids were fluttering and her body stiffening. Jan was kneeling beside her, pale as milk. I dropped to Charlotte’s side. “She’s having a seizure. Call 911!”
Jan popped up and ran to the phone while I held Charlotte’s shoulders. “Honey, it’s Mom.”
“It’s 911,” Jan said. “What’s your address?”
“Twenty-four twelve Oakhurst,” I said, “tell them to hurry!”
Jan repeated the address. “They want to know what’s happening.”
“She’s having a seizure.”
“They want to know if she’s had one before?”
“No. What do I do?” I said, trying to stay calm.
“What do we do?” Jan turned back. “Roll her to her side.”
Charlotte suddenly went limp. “Charlotte!” I screamed to Jan, “Tell them she passed out. Do I need to hold her tongue?”
She repeated my words into the phone. “Is she still breathing?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t put anything in her mouth. They say she’ll be all right. Put something soft under her head.”
I took off my sweater, rolled it up and put it under her head. A moment later Charlotte moaned, then began to move. I said to her softly, “Honey, can you hear me?”
She looked up at me and began to cry.
I cupped Charlotte’s face. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.”
I heard the wail of a siren coming down our street.
