Read Online Catwalk by Sheila Webster Boneham - Free Book Online

swim after his morning classes and offered to pick me and Jay up if we wanted to go along. According to the microwave clock, I might just catch him before his nine thirty class. I did, and declined.
    â€œCome on. You’ll feel better if you get out in the gray November light.”
    â€œI would, but I really have to go see Mom. I’m not likely to get there Friday, and Thursday’s iffy.” I didn’t have to add that I didn’t like to let too much time go between visits for fear that I would miss what was left of my mother’s cognitive presence. Every visit was different and I never knew what I might walk into. Sometimes she knew me and Bill and even Tom. She was always happy to see Jay when I took him along, although more often than not she called him Laddie, the dog of her young heart. But there were more and more of the other days now, and I was terrified that soon there would be none of the good ones.
    We agreed that there was no reason for Jay to miss the fun of a lake visit, so Tom said he’d drop by my house, pick him up, and bring him back later in the afternoon.
    â€œAnd, Janet, don’t worry about that jerk what’s-his-name. No one’s going to take him seriously.”
    I wasn’t so sure, especially if Hutchinson was right and Rasmussen really did have friends in high places. I sat staring at my bagel crumbs while I considered my next move. The letter Alberta showed me the night before mentioned my name, sort of. It said “Jane McFall,” but they would correct that boo-boo if Rasmussen went through with his threat. He couldn’t get the police to arrest Alberta and me for criminal trespass, so he had already filed in civil court, citing “civil trespass.” I didn’t even know there was such a thing. I considered whether to call my lawyer, meaning my brother-in-law, Norm, now or after I was served. That might not even happen, I reminded myself, and I decided that the call could wait, at least until I’d had my shower.
    Two hours later I sat at a sun-drenched table across from my mother, who had been paging through Fine Gardening when I arrived. She was fully present, at least for the moment, and was gushing and blushing by turns about one Anthony Marconi.
    Tony Marconi? whispered Janet Demon. Really? But Mom was so buoyantly smitten with the guy that I held my tongue.
    Mom leaned across the table and lowered her voice. “He’s so sexy!” The corners of her lips, her eyebrows, and her shoulders all flicked up and back down in unison.
    â€œSo when do I get to meet him, Mom?” And exactly when did these tables get turned? I was thrilled to see my mother so happy, but a little concerned that Anthony Marconi might not be entirely real for anyone but her.
    â€œRight now.” She was looking past me and smiling. A dapper elderly man stepped up to the table, took her hand in his, and kissed it, sending her into a giggling fit. Still bending toward her, he smiled into my mother’s face and her eyes glowed with a light I hadn’t seen in them since my father got sick.
    Marconi turned to me and bowed slightly. “You must be Janet.” Although he appeared to be in his mid-eighties, his skin was smooth except for a looseness along the jowl. His eyes were a warm blue ringed with laugh lines, and his salt-and-pepper hair was thick and curly. “I’ve heard all about you and that lovely dog of yours. Jay, if I’m not mistaken?”
    I looked at my mother. She hadn’t remembered Jay’s name in at least a year. Not within my hearing, at any rate. She didn’t remember my name half the time. That’s why she was living here in the first place. I wondered if Anthony Marconi had flipped some switch in her brain that would hold off the evil force of dementia a bit longer.
    Marconi pulled up a chair and the three of us talked for another half hour or so. Somewhere around the ten-minute mark I realized