"Very nice to meet you," Julia said, offering the doctor her hand.
"As I was telling your mother, young lady—"
"Hump!" Ro-Ro decreed from the bed. "Walter, she is no spring chicken."
An embarrassed look flashed across Dr. Tompkins's face. Julia hurried to wave his worries away and then prompted, "You were saying, Doctor ..."
"Yes. It seems your aunt is a very lucky lady."
Another grunt from Ro-Ro. "Luck, you say, Walter? Luck, has ..." Ro-Ro's voice trailed off, then she snapped, "Evelyn, what are you doing?"
Every eye turned to Miss Georgia.
She was leaning over Ro-Ro, a curling iron in her hands.
"Well." Miss Georgia sounded guilty, as if she'd just been caught pinching a little of Ro-Ro's morph**e for herself. "Rosemary, if I could just give you a little shape on the top, I know you'd feel much better." She looked to Georgia A. and Georgia B. for support, and they nodded in agreement.
As if on cue, Dr. Tompkins added, "The office of community relations did ask if you might consent to a photo, Mrs. Willis." Photo! Ro-Ro came to full attention. "After all, it isn't every day we get to treat our favorite patron," he finished with a fund-raiser's grin.
Ro-Ro surveyed the room. Julia thought she could see joy behind the old woman's scowl as she did the mental calculations, knowing she might get drugs, flowers, and press coverage all in the same day. "I suppose," Ro-Ro said slowly, "that if it will benefit the hospital, I might allow a few tasteful photos."
With that, Julia heard a familiar "thunk" as Miss Georgia's bag overturned, and Ro-Ro was lost in a whirlwind of Aqua Net and false eyelashes.
Every few minutes, Ro-Ro would mutter, "Evelyn, this is preposterous." But she still managed to pout, suck in her cheeks, and rub her lips together whenever Miss Georgia told her to.
Waiting for the elevator in the glass atrium that led to the rooftop garden, Lance readjusted his grip on the handles of Ro-Ro's wheelchair. Since she'd already succeeded in making two nurses and a photographer cry, none of the orderlies would push her. She hummed and grinned to herself in the sunshine. By Ro-Ro's standards, it was shaping up to be a pretty good day.
Julia, Madelyn, and the rest of Ro-Ro's posse were still examining the flowers on the roof—an amazing sight, Lance had to admit, and one he hated to leave in order to return the old woman to her room. But she'd insisted, and when Ro-Ro insists . . .
"Young man, when you go back to New York—which you will—you must visit Marjorie VanGundy. She was an acting coach, one of the greats. Mention my name and she'll see to you."
The doors slid open, and Lance eased her into the elevator, but all he could think was, What does she mean by "which you will"?
He pushed the button, and they began their descent.
"Come stand where I can see you," she demanded. He complied. "You're too tall. Lean down." He squatted. "There. That's better," she said, but Lance didn't agree, since he was starting to lose feeling in his calves.
"Do you know why I married my four husbands?" she asked.
A proper guess would have been, "Because you loved them," but Lance felt that was too easy, so instead he shook his head and said, "No."
"When I was young, you had to be married to have freedom. It may sound silly to you, but it's true. My husbands and I traveled the world; we met interesting people, we had fascinating lives. A single woman could not have done that in my time. But"—Ro-Ro cocked her head—"times have changed.
An independent woman today, a woman like my niece, for example, would have other options. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, meaning it.
"I know my niece well," Ro-Ro said. "We're very much alike. She has a good life, an independent life. I don't imagine that she has any reason to change it."
There was a ding, and Lance felt the doors slide open. He stood and began to push the chair into the corridor. "Yes," Ro-Ro carried on, but her tone was decidedly different. "Marjorie VanGundy might do wonderful things for you. But only if you mention my name."
Julia found her mother flipping through a magazine in the waiting area down the hall from Ro-Ro's door. She sat down beside her, handed her a cup of coffee, and asked, "Is Daddy back yet?"
Madelyn closed the magazine. "He left. Didn't Lance tell you?" "No."
"Oh, honey, they left." "They?"
"Your father and Lance. Didn't Lance tell you he was leaving?"