CHAPTER 32
“I’m getting too old for this,” Mom complained as she hobbled on her crutches to the elevator door. “I can hardly stand these things.”
“I’m sorry.” Ricky wondered if there was anything he could do to help. “Want me to run upstairs and see if they have a wheelchair you can borrow?”
“Mercy, no. The last thing I need is for the whole town to see me getting pushed around in one of those contraptions like an invalid. Now hold that elevator open. You know I’m terrified of those doors closing in on me.”
Ricky did as he was told. “Which floor are you going to?” he asked.
“Two.” Mom said the word sharply, as if she were disappointed her son couldn’t keep track of every single medical provider she went to see in any given month. Especially from her battle with breast cancer, it seeme
