Chapter 5

“Everything used to be prettier,” she said, raising a hand to her face, and sweeping a finger across her eighty-seven-year-old eyes. “People and things are blurry. I see shadows when there’s light. I’m like an unfocused camera.”

“You’re still quick-witted and funny,” I said. “That should count for something.”

She patted my leg. “And I’ve got the best company an old woman can ask for.”

“How’s your tea? Do you want me to reheat it?”

“No. No. It’ll be fine. I’ll ask Helga the Helium Balloon to heat it, if need be. That’s what she gets paid for.”

I grinned. “Why do you call her that?”

“Because she looks and sounds like a balloon losing its air.”

“That’s not nice, Grams.”

“She gets on my nerves.”

“What does she do?”