Melinda looked again at the younger nurse in the photograph. This time, she studied the face.
“How could you—”
“You still have the little blanket.”
The pieces of the photograph trembled in Melinda’s hands.
A minute earlier, she had been certain this woman had nothing left to offer and nowhere in this home she belonged.
Now she could barely finish a sentence.
How did the woman she had just ordered out know about the one thing she had kept all her life?
One torn corner slipped from Melinda’s fingers and landed faceup beside Adelaide’s slipper.
Neither woman moved to retrieve it.
“What color?” Melinda asked.
“Yellow. The binding was white.”
“Anyone could guess yellow.”
“There was a crooked blue bird in one corner. One wing bigger than the other.”
Melinda’s breath scraped audibly through her nose. She looked toward the hallway, then back at Adelaide, as though measuring the distance to somewhere she could escape being seen.
“My mother sewed that bird,” Adelaide said. “She was losing her eyesight. Wouldn’t let anybody help.”
Melinda lowered herself into the nearest chair. The remaining half of the photograph rested against her knee.
“You saw it in my things.”
“I saw it when you were showing Phillip your childhood box. Before the wedding.”
“And you said nothing?”
“You said you didn’t want questions about being adopted. I respected that.”
A pipe knocked inside the wall. Adelaide bent carefully, retrieved the fallen fragment, and laid it on the table. Her younger face looked back at her from the torn paper.
“I wasn’t certain until that afternoon,” she continued. “I knew your first name and birthday. Then I saw the bird.”
Melinda pressed a hand against her mouth.
The hallway floor creaked.
Phillip stood in the doorway wearing the expression he always wore when he hoped an argument might finish without requiring anything from him. Adelaide had once mistaken that expression for gentleness.
“What’s going on?”
“Did you agree I should leave?” she asked.
He looked at Melinda.
Adelaide waited until he looked back.
“Answer me.”
“We were going to discuss options.”
“Did you agree?”
His silence lasted long enough.
Adelaide pulled out the chair opposite Melinda and sat down. Only then did she notice how badly her knees were trembling.
Phillip took a step toward her.
“Mom, you’re getting older. This place is a lot.”
“I asked whether you agreed to put me out. I did not ask how old I am.”
Melinda stared at the photograph on the table.
“She’s the nurse,” she said.
Phillip frowned.
