was then a respectable working-class neighborhood.
She would fix French toast for breakfast and send Jeannie and Patty to school in clean dresses, then do her hair and make up her face - you had to look smart, working in a salon - and always leave a spotless kitchen with a plate of cookies on the table for the girls when they came back. On Sundays the three of them cleaned the apartment and did the laundry together. Mom had always been so capable, so reliable, so tireless, it was heartbreaking to see the forgetful, complaining woman on the bed.
Now she frowned, as if puzzled, and said: "Jeannie, why have you got a ring in your nose?"
Jeannie touched the delicate silver band and gave a wan smile. "Mom, I had my nostril pierced when I was a kid. Don't you remember how mad you got about it? I thought you were going to throw me out on the street."
"I forget things," Mom said.
"I sure remember," said Patty. "I thought it was the greatest thing ever. But I was eleven and you were fourteen, and to me everything you did was bold and stylish and clever."
"Maybe it was," Jeannie said with mock vanity.
Patty giggled. "The orange jacket sure wasn't."
"Oh, God, that jacket. Mom finally burned it after I slept in it in an abandoned building and got fleas."
"I remember that," Mom said. "Fleas! A child of mine!" She was still indignant about it, fifteen years later.
Suddenly the mood was lighter. Reminiscing had reminded them of how close they were. It was a good moment to leave. "I'd better go," Jeannie said, standing up.
"Me too," said Patty. "I have to make dinner."
However, neither woman moved toward the door. Jeannie felt she was abandoning her mother, deserting her in a time of need. Nobody here loved her. She should have family to look after her. Jeannie and Patty should stay with her, and cook for her, and iron her nightgowns, and turn the TV to her favorite show.
Mom said: "When will I see you?"
Jeannie hesitated. She wanted to say, "Tomorrow, I'll bring you your breakfast and stay with you all day." But it was impossible: she had a busy week at work. Guilt flooded her. How can I be so cruel?
Patty rescued her, saying: "I'll come tomorrow, and bring the kids to see you, you'll like that."
Mom was not going to let Jeannie get off that easily. "Will you come too, Jeannie?"
Jeannie could hardly speak. "As soon as I can." Choking with grief, she leaned over the bed and kissed her mother. "I love you, Mom. Try to remember that."
The moment they were outside the door, Patty burst into tears.
Jeannie felt like crying too, but she was the older sister, and she had long ago gotten into the habit of controlling her own emotions while she took care of Patty. She put an arm around her sister's shoulders as they walked along the antiseptic corridor. Patty was not weak, but she was more accepting than Jeannie, who was combative and willful. Mom always criticized Jeannie and said she should be more like Patty.
"I wish I could have her at home with me, but I can't," Patty said woefully.
Jeannie agreed. Patty was married to a carpenter called Zip. They lived in a small row house with two bedrooms. The second bedroom was shared by her three boys. Davey was six, Mel four, and Tom two. There was nowhere to put a grandma.
Jeannie was single. As an assistant professor at Jones Falls University she earned thirty thousand dollars a year - a lot less than Patty's husband, she guessed - and she had just taken out her first mortgage and bought a two-room apartment and furnished it on credit. One room was a living room with a kitchen nook, the other a bedroom with a closet and a tiny bathroom. If she gave Mom her bed she would have to sleep on the couch every night; and there was no one at home during the day to keep an eye on a woman with Alzheimer's. "I can't take her either," she said.
Patty showed anger through her tears. "So why did you tell her we would get her out of there? We can't!"
They stepped outside into the torrid heat. Jeannie said: "Tomorrow I'll go to the bank and get a loan. We'll put her in a better place and I'll add to the insurance money."
"But how will you ever pay it back?" said Patty practically.