“You must be Pog,” he boomed, as she slowly climbed to the stoop. “I’m Andy, Mrs. Finn’s aide.”
“She has an aide?”
“She has two. I’m days only.”
Nann sat in her recliner wrapped in blankets, like a perfect egg in a nest. “It’s about time,” she whispered.
“She has a bit of laryngitis from coughing,” Andy explained, opening the curtains to let more light into the room. “She caught pneumonia and got a staph infection while she was rehabbing the new hip.”
“They did their best to kill me,” Nann muttered. “But failed. You here for good?”