Louella Gets a Reprieve

Louella's mouth felt dry, and she headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. Can't stay in the same room with my own sister, she fumed. She thinks she can just blow this burg and go to California and leave me holding the bag for Dad, huh? Louella slammed the refrigerator door and tossed ice cubes in a glass she'd picked up from the dishrack. Ick! she thought. Looks like it's never been washed with soap and water! She looked in a cabinet for a cleaner glass and found that all the dishes and glassware looked dingy. Then she held her hair back from her face and put her mouth under running water from the faucet.

Returning to the living room, Candy looked at Louella warily. "Sorry if I sounded like I wouldn't be watching your back with Dad," she hazarded. "But I really have been thinking about going to California, and now might be the right time. I'm not getting any younger, ya know."

"Younger? What planet are you on?" snapped Louella. "You're forty-eight big ones, Candy. Time you grew up!"

"Whoa, girl! Looks like menopause is getting the best of you! It's my life, okay? I can decide where to live. There's nothing to keep me here in this dump!"

"How about the free rent, huh? That's a good reason to stay in this so-called dump! And it wouldn't be such a dump if you cleaned it once in a while! I think the health department would be interested in having a look at the glasses in the kitchen!"

"Well, Dad needs something to do, Lou," Candy snapped. "If I do simple things like wash the dishes, he'll start feeling useless."

"Has it occurred to you that he can't see very well? And he can't read any more, have you noticed that? And I think he listens to the TV more than he actually watches it. You ought to be paying more attention!"

"So what are you now? A doctor? Dad's doing fine for his age, what with his diabetes and hypertension and all."

"Look, Dad's only sixty-eight! That's not so old these days. He should have a better quality of life than he's got. And now he might be—"

"—Dying? Come on, Lou, you're such an alarmist! Dad's going to be all right. You'll see!"

"Wishing don't make it so—remember that's what Mom used to tell us? But I sure do hope Dad's going to be okay, because I'm not in the mood to help you out. I've bailed you and Mason out of so many scrapes, and I think it's time I got a life of my own and let you take charge of Dad."

"Maybe I would have before if you hadn't kept showing up and poking your nose in our business!" Candy thumped the sofa cushion hard, and picked at something between her front teeth.

"I've just about had it with your attitude!" hissed Louella. "Did I mention to you that the reason I didn't ever move away was because I was worried about all of you?"

"Who asked you to stick around?" snapped Candy. "We can get along perfectly well without you. Just give us a chance, and we'll show you!"

The phone rang. It was between them on a side table, and neither reached for it at first. Finally Louella picked up the receiver. "Pryzbylewski residence."

"Is this Louella, daughter of Anton?" 

"Yes, this is she." Candy groaned at her sister's correct grammar, like she always did.

"This is Doctor Halloway. I just wanted to let you know that your Dad's ready to come home. We did a couple of tests, and it turns out he has cystitis without the usual symptoms." 

"Oooh! I'm so glad!" Louella sank into a chair. Now I can think about moving to California myself, she realized. Forget about running for the Baltimore City Council! I want out of this place!

TO BE CONTINUED.