Read Online Duet for Three by Joan Barfoot - Free Book Online Page B

enough. What am I supposed to do?”
    There’s silence for a moment as they look at her. What do they see? Someone pitiable?
    Not Aggie. “I’ve never known what you were supposed to do, June,” she says. “You’re the expert on that. You’re the one who always knows what everybody’s supposed to do.”
    George, however — maybe drawn by June’s passion? — says, “I can see it must be hard for you. But there must be a solution that would suit you both.”
    Oh naive, hopeful, cowardly young man. “That would be a first,” Aggie says.
    â€œWell, there are homemakers who come in, or the VON. I could probably arrange for somebody, say once or twice a week, even if it’s just to keep an eye.”
    â€œLook, this is my home,” Aggie objects firmly. “I don’t want to be knee-deep in strangers. Let’s get this straight. I do understand it’s hard for June, I do realize she’s getting on, and I know I’m not easy to deal with. After all, I’m the one who carries this,” gesturing across her body, “all the time. I know better than anyone how heavy I am. But I’m hardly helpless, and I’m not about to leave my home. You’ll get it eventually, June, but I do feel you might wait.”
    â€œNow, now,” George says, his hands patting the air, tamping something down that insists on bobbing up again, “there’s no need, not until we know just what’s wrong. And then I’m sure things can be worked out, it just takes some giving on both sides.”
    â€œThat’s your only advice?” June asks, the sharpness of her tone, she realizes as soon as the words are out, offsetting her advantage.
    â€œWell, I’ve made a suggestion or two to Aggie. I’ve got to go now. You two talk things over, and if I can do anything by way of arranging a homemaker or whatever, just let me know. And I’ll let you know, of course, if we need to do any more tests.”
    Aggie starts in as soon as he’s left. “Well, June, it seems you do have things to say for yourself. I must say, you express yourself quite plainly when you put your mind to it.”
    â€œWe have to do something. You must see that. And anything could happen. Anything.”
    â€œMy dear girl, I’ve been telling you that for years. Why pick now to believe me?”
    There is no nodding white-haired gentleness in Aggie now, with her little pig-eyes snapping out from the pouches of flesh. The bigger she gets, the smaller her features seem. Now she looks like one of those gingerbread cookies she used to make, just raisins set in for eyes.
    â€œLook, June, it’s my risk after all. It’s my death you seem to be worrying about. And as I said before, it’s my house. You may stay or go as you please, but I stay.”
    But this house is in June’s blood. This is the one place in the world she belongs. Here is where her father came through the door at night, and where he told her stories and read to her. Here is where she later felt his spirit hovering. She still has some idea of at least a part of him here, watching out for her. The one time she did leave, she found herself exposed, unsafe. She distinctly remembers her mother saying, years ago, “I hate this goddamned house.” That was when June’s father was alive, so maybe she wasn’t talking exactly about the house. But June loves this place, the home of her earliest, best self.
    â€œSo, June, what’s it to you if I’m willing to take the chance that if I stand up, I might fall down, or if I try to move too fast my heart will stop? I don’t see you’d have to actually do very much if you came home and found me dead on the floor. Make a couple of phone calls, maybe. But then you could step right over me and make yourself a cup of tea and be out of the room in no time, and by the time you looked again I’d be gone. One