When Andi answered the phone, Grandmother was mid-sentence in panicked speech. These calls were not new, they had been coming with increasing frequency for a year now. Normally, however, Grandmother was entirely composed, casual to the point of rambling, chatting about her day for a few minutes before slipping in the actual purpose of the call. Grandpa drove to the store and never came back. Grandpa was supposed to skim the pool, but drained it instead. Grandpa took the car downtown and returned on the bus with no memory of the car’s location. Could Andi please go and find it?
The more ridiculous the task, the calmer Grandmother became, so the mid-sentence panic was incredibly alarming. “…stretched out on the floor at the foot of the stairs. Who does that?”
“Is he breathing, Grandmother?” Andi lowered her voice so that Debi in the next cubicle, a known spy, couldn’t overhear another ”personal” call.
“Breathing? He was snoring away until I started to scream. He told me to shut up and bring him a pillow. I don’t think I can take anymore.”
“Did he fall? Can he get up?”
“He is taking a nap,” Grandmother said with slow emphasis, cold fury. “He was tired so he stopped at the foot of the stairs, stretched out on the tile and went to sleep. This is not the way decent people live.”
The cubicles around Andi were silent. Were people listening in? Had everyone gone to lunch? Was the boss out of his glass office and sneaking around again?
“I need you to come home. Can you come...
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