Summer House
wedding—what a fuss that was!—and Worth and Helen’s, and she saw the pink baby faces of her grandchildren, and the hot-air balloon carried her just a little farther, and she was at Mandy’s wedding, and Mellie’s, and Mee’s, and she saw the sweet precious faces of her great-grandchildren, Christian first, with his great thatch of brown hair, and then bald little Zoe.
    What a lot of life she had lived! No wonder she was tired!
    All day long she was aware of the unusual commotion in her house. It always took awhile, at the beginning of summer, to get used to the noises of a full house; it was like going to sleep in a library and waking up one day to discover that overnight it had become a train station. Baby Zoe wailed like a siren. As Christian waited in the upstairs hall for his mother to change his baby sister’s diaper, he kicked a ball up and down the hall, yelling “Goal!” when it thumped into the wall. Nona didn’t mind. Long ago she’d packed away all the valuable antique vases and heirloom bibelots, and she didn’t miss them. Downstairs, the doors slammed and squeaked and voices rose and fell, Grace’s chipped soprano answered by Glorious’s slow deep hums. Water ran through the pipes as various members took their showers, and the uncarpeted back stairs resounded with footsteps running up and down.
    At four, a knock came on Nona’s door. “Yes?”
    Helen peered in. “Are you awake, Nona?”
    “I am now.” Nona waved Helen into her room.
    Helen was wearing a brilliantly colored silk wrapper and a pair of rubber flip-flops, and her hair was freshly shampooed, hanging in those ridiculous Shirley Temple ringlets that no grown woman should sport, but of course Helen couldn’t help it if she had naturally curly hair. Although Nona secretly wondered if that rebellious hair didn’t have a genetic link—like white cats and deafness—with an insubordinate personality.
    Helen said, “We thought you might like to have a little bite to eat.”
    Nona frowned, perplexed. “I ate lunch today, didn’t I?”
    “Yes, you did, but that was at noon. We thought you ought to have something substantial before the party.”
    The hardest part about becoming truly aged was having to take suggestions, which were really velvet-gloved commands, from younger people. Nona tried not to bristle. They were, after all, only thinking of her own good. “Won’t there be food at the party?”
    “Of course. A buffet dinner. But you know how it is, impossible to eat with people all around you talking to you. We thought perhaps a nice hot pot of tea and a cheese sandwich?”
    Nona snorted. “How about a nice big Scotch and some Cheez-Its.”
    “Nona! Cheez-Its?”
    “I’m old. They settle my stomach. And I have always drunk a Scotch every day of my life, you know that, Helen.” She peered closely at her daughter-in-law. “Your nose is red.”
    “I know. I helped weed in Charlotte’s garden today.” Helen put her hands on her back. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”
    “Who is? But you’ve got just a bit of a burn, a glow, actually; it becomes you.”
    Helen blushed. “I’ll go get your drink and your Cheez-Its.”
    Nona wedged herself up off her chaise, leaned on her cane, and wobbled off into her private bathroom. She urinated, washed her hands, and studied her reflection in the mirror. She looked as old as Moses, and about as attractive. From this room, she could hear Grace in the next bedroom.
    “I knew they’d do this! Helen’s children have always been unreliable! They’re going to ruin everything!”
    Kellogg’s voice was soothing. “Grace. They’ll be here, or they won’t; it doesn’t matter. You have arranged a magnificent party, and Nona will be thrilled.”
    Nona sighed. Why did Grace not have Worth’s ease? Was it her fault? Of course it was her fault. She would have to be fulsome in her compliments to Grace. Grace was such a worker.
    She hobbled back to her bedroom and lowered herself

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