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much from old Carl. Now that he’s getting old and sick, she wants him to leave as big an estate as possible. Ergo, a developer should get the land.”
    â€œIf she’s his ex, what difference does it make to her what his estate is?”
    â€œBecause she and Helene are close, and she figures Helene will inherit and then share with Mama!”
    â€œI see, said the blind woman.”
    â€œAnd since Carl is staying with Helene, Jeanette figures that Helene can maybe get the old man to change his mind.”
    â€œAnd Jeanette has some developer in the wings, eh?”
    â€œEh, indeed. You’re a smart cookie, for a nurse. In fact, Mom’s developer is now dating Mom’s daughter. Is that some kind of incest?”
    â€œWhere did you get this bit of gossip?”
    I had a sudden foreboding of danger. “My sources are confidential, I’m afraid.”
    â€œWell, I’ve got to go now.” She wiggled within my arm, and pretended to try to sit up. I didn’t want to let her go, and made a quick, wrong decision.
    â€œOkay, okay. Angie Bettencourt told me all about it the other day. She and Helene go way back, and I guess they still talk a lot.”
    I could feel Zee get a little stiff. “I didn’t know you and Angie were still seeing each other.”
    I was suddenly irritated. “We met at the A & P, down by the fruit and vegetables where we alwayshave our passionate encounters. Nobody pays any attention to us there, and we can put our pants on the potatoes while we cuddle on the floor. You know how Angie is. She can’t restrain herself, but she hates to have her clothes get dirty.”
    Zee was not amused. “Don’t be funny with me. Have you been seeing her?”
    I tried to push my temper away. “Look, I see Angie about once in a blue moon. We bump into each other at the store or on the street now and then. We don’t date and we haven’t for years.”
    â€œI’ll bet she’d like to!”
    â€œI don’t know about that.” I was at once angry and worried. “Are you okay?”
    â€œLet me go.” I did, and she got up and stood, rubbing one arm with her hand in a nervous way. “I don’t know . . . All right, I’m sorry I said that about you and Angie. I don’t know what’s the matter with me lately. I guess I’m just nervous about . . .”
    â€œAbout what? About getting married?” I stood up, too.
    â€œYes, I guess so. Look, I’m sorry . . . I think I’d better go on home.”
    â€œWait,” I said. I put my arms around her and she let me pull her to me. I held her taut body against mine for a moment, then kissed the top of her head and stepped back. I put my hands on her shoulders, and looked down into her great, dark eyes. When my voice seemed ready for words, I said, “I love you. I want to marry you. I know you must wonder how much your life will change if we get married, and I understand that the idea must be nerve-racking sometimes. I want you, but I don’t want to push you, and I don’t want you to do anything you’re not sure you want to do. Do you understand?”
    â€œYes.” Her voice seemed small.
    â€œWhen we marry, I plan on having it last as long as we both live, so I want you to be sure.”
    She shook her head, and the lamplight glittered on her long, dark hair. “Oh, I am sure. It’s just that I get so touchy sometimes that I don’t like myself.”
    â€œI want you to be happy. I’d rather have that than to be married to you.”
    She put her arms around my waist, and laid her head against my chest. Her voice seemed lost in my shirt. “I love you, but I’m going home. I don’t feel like very good company tonight.”
    I tried a joke. “Excellent. I’m not very good company.”
    She tightened her arms around me. “Yes, you are.” She lifted her