Maddie’s face told its own story. Breaking her ankle had been a shock, and very painful, but what it implied was even worse. The picture Deanna had painted for her made her want to cry, or run away. But she couldn’t run away from time, or the future. Just as Deanna said, it would catch up with her sooner or later, and maybe it already had.
“I’m okay,” Maddie said, and convinced neither of them. “I think I’m hungover from the pills I took.” She normally hated medication, rarely took any, and didn’t need to. “I’m wondering if Deanna is right, and I should put in an elevator, before I actually need to. It might be useful later.”
“A lot later,” Penny said, frowning. She hated what Maddie’s oldest daughter did to her. She always found some way to upset her. Her other two children weren’t attentive, but at least they didn’t rattle her the way Deanna did, and take pleasure in doing so. “It’ll eat up a lot of the studio,” she said sensibly. And then more gently she looked at her employer and friend. “Don’t let Deanna get to you.” It was good advice.
“She thinks I’m losing it, and falling off the ladder is the first sign. Maybe she’s right. Old people fall all the time.” Maddie was near tears as she said it.
“You’re not old. That’s bullshit. She’s been jealous of you for all the years I’ve known you, and she probably has been all her life. She’s just waiting for you to get really old and start failing so she can finally feel superior to you. Don’t let her do that. When you’re ninety, or ninety-five, you’ll still have more style, grace, and probably energy than she will. You wear me out. I don’t love the idea of you on a ladder in the middle of the night either. It was a dumb thing to do, at any age, but you’re not falling apart. You had a common household accident, it can happen to anyone. Things like that remind us of our mortality, and that we can hurt ourselves if we’re not careful. It’s not a sign of senility or imminent old age. And I’m sure you won’t do it again. You’ll probably be running up and down those damn stairs I hate long after I will.” Penny was sixteen years younger than Maddie. “Deanna just likes scaring you and making you feel insecure.” Maddie nodded, she knew it was true, but Penny made Deanna sound Machiavellian, and Maddie didn’t believe she was quite as bad as that. She was just tactless and unkind, and outspoken. And she probably was right. Maddie would have to give up the firehouse one day, just not yet, and hopefully not for a long time. She loved living there.
Maddie was working on the contact sheets, and not thinking about Deanna or her ankle, an hour later when Penny told her Ben was on the line for her. Maddie was instantly worried. He never called her during business hours. He was usually much too busy for that. Something must be wrong. She answered the phone quickly.
“Are you okay?” she asked him.
“I’m okay. What about you? That seems to be the more relevant question. What happened this weekend?” It was obvious that he knew and wanted to hear her account of the story.
“Did Deanna call you?” The jungle drums were beating. She felt as though Deanna had squealed on her. Maybe she had told him that their mother needed a caretaker too.
“She sent me a text this morning,” he said about his sister. “She said you had a bad fall and broke your ankle.” He sounded very concerned.
“I’m all right. I did a stupid thing. I was cleaning out a closet and fell off a ladder. Lesson learned. I guess I fell at a bad angle. I didn’t need surgery, they put on a cast at the ER and sent me home. It’s a nuisance, but not fatal.”
He sounded somewhat relieved, but not entirely, at her explanation. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you, and there’s nothing you could do at this distance. I could have called Penny if I needed to.” He felt bad, realizing how alone she was at times. He didn’t think about it often, and had no need to until something like this, an accident or an injury or potentially an illness, happened. On the weekends, she was all alone, and Deanna was in Massachusetts. She could have driven down, if it was warranted, but his mother made it sound like a much smaller deal than Deanna had in her text. He hadn’t called her back, he had called his mother instead to hear it from her directly.
“You shouldn’t be on a ladder when you’re alone, Mom,” he said gently. But he also knew that she was on and off ladders all the time in her studio. She’d been doing it all his life.
“I know. I won’t do that again. I leaned too far and the ladder fell, and I didn’t have time to jump clear. Deanna got all wound up about it. She wants me to hire someone to live in. This house isn’t made for that. It would be crazy. I don’t want someone sitting here, waiting for me to fall on my face. It won’t happen again.” But they both knew it might. Accidents happened. She could cut herself badly or slip on the stairs. He’d almost fallen on her stairs several times himself. His feet were too big for the shallow steps, and they were slippery. Laura was terrified of them, and everything in the firehouse, for their kids, and never wanted them to go there. Their whole house in Belvedere was childproofed, but there was no way to make the firehouse entirely safe, even for adults.
“Are you feeling okay otherwise?” he asked her. There had been a tone of panic to his sister’s text, as though there was something wrong with their mother and she was somehow slipping. He had picked up on it immediately.
“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me. How are Laura and the kids?” She changed the subject to get the focus off her, but she was touched that he had called her. His call was of filial love, and didn’t have the ring of accusation like Deanna’s.
“Everyone’s fine here, busy, as usual. I was just worried about you when I got Dee’s text.”
“She got very wound up about it last night, when she called me about something else and I told her. I’ll admit, it was stupid of me. I’m not going to hire a live-in person, though. It would drive me nuts. She’s always hated this house. She thinks I should be living uptown in an apartment. This suits me better.” Ben knew it was true, it expressed her individuality, and he knew how independent she was.
“Just be careful, Mom. Don’t go sliding down the fire pole every day,” he teased her.
“I’ll try not to, at least till I’m off crutches.”
“I’ll call you in a few days and see how you’re doing. I’m late for a meeting. I’ve got to go. I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. Thank you for calling. Give my love to Laura and the kids.” It meant a lot to her whenever her children called her, more than they knew.
She spent the rest of the day getting ready for the shoot on Thursday. It was a Vogue cover of a famous movie star. She was older and a beautiful woman. Maddie had a knack for photographing mature women and making them look terrific. She hadn’t shot for Vogue in a while, and she had always wanted to meet the actress. It was going to be a fun day, and she was looking forward to it. She was smiling when she checked the studio, with everything set up the way she liked it. It was a good distraction from her ankle and the cast. She felt back in control again, which was a relief after the weekend. She had just sat down at her desk, and propped her crutches against the wall behind her, when she heard the doorbell, and Deanna walked in two minutes later, unannounced as usual. She never called to ask if it was convenient. Her mother’s schedule was irrelevant to her.