Light as a Feather, Cold as Marble

Chapter 13

"Okay, guys," Henry announced. "My dad said Triple A is coming to tow the Benz. We're going to have to take a cab to Lake Forest, and then the train back to Willow later this afternoon."

My heart sank. This significant, unexpected transportation issue was most likely going to have an impact on my desire to get home in time for the dinner my mom was making. It crossed my mind to text her and let her know we were having a car issue and I might be late, but I resisted the urge. For the moment, I was still hopeful that I'd make it home in time.

The manager of the valet service and the two uniformed valets lingered around the Mercedes stroking their chins and looking up at the other icicles dangling from the edge of the car port. The manager called the residence's custodial crew to figure out a way to knock the rest of the icicles down before another one fell and caused damage to another vehicle, or worse, a hurt a person. We stepped into the visitors' center and looked around as if we'd just fallen out of a spinning tornado into Oz. The walls of the room were paneled in rich mahogany, punctured by brass sconces holding little lights shaped like candles. Arrangements of Hawaiian flowers flanked the reception desk, filling the lobby with the fresh, sweet smell of orchids. A well-dressed elderly couple sat together on a leather couch both reading books.

"Welcome to the Gold Coast. Are you here to visit someone?" a kindly-looking man with a gray beard greeted us in the front lobby. He wore a dark gray pinstripe suit and a name tag pinned to his lapel gave his name as RICHARD KUTTNER.

"Yes," Mischa piped up. "I'm here to see my grandmother, Caroline Stowe."

"Ah, yes. Mrs. Stowe. I'm sure she'll be pleased to see you. You must be Violet."

Mischa nodded emphatically. "Yes, I called yesterday about visiting hours. These are my friends. We drove all the way down from Wisconsin to visit my grandmother because I just love her so much."

"Very glad you could make the drive down in spite of the inclement weather," Mr. Kuttner told us. It was obvious that if the real Violet had visited recently or ever, Mr. Kuttner didn't remember what she looked like. Even though Mischa had dark hair to her shoulders like Violet's, she was a good five inches shorter than our sinister former friend. Mr. Kuttner motioned for us to follow him to the reception desk, where a woman who looked more like a hotel concierge than a nurse was answering phones.

"This place is ridiculous," Trey whispered to me as we followed. "It's like MTV Cribs, but for old people."

The nurse ended her call and greeted us with a warm smile. "Angela, these nice young people are here to visit Mrs. Stowe. Would you mind phoning up to Naomi to see if she's ready for visitors?" Mr. Kuttner asked.

Angela, the receptionist, nodded and raised the phone.  

Mischa turned around to offer us a zany smile with her eyes enormous, saying with her expression, can you believe this?

I was nervous even though I knew there was no real reason to be; it wasn't as if nursing homes typically relied on any kind of futuristic technology like retina scans for security access. Although, at that point, if we were called out for being imposters, we'd have been in a bit of a jam since we no longer had wheels to make our escape.

"Alright. Five minutes? Very well. Thank you," the receptionist said into her phone before returning it to its cradle and once again smiling at us.  "You're welcome to have a seat for a few minutes. Mrs. Stowe's caretaker will be down shortly to escort you upstairs."

"She has a caretaker?" Mischa wondered aloud one we were on the other side of the lobby, taking seats in velvet upholstered chairs near a roaring fire in the fireplace. An enormous, beautifully decorated Christmas tree stood in the corner near the fireplace with a Victorian angel on its top. "Is that like a private butler?"