Chapter 10
Minsky
Everything in her father’s nursing home was painted in insipid pastels, except for the grey venetian blinds and speckled carpet, which crackled with electricity. Cheaply framed prints of European birds and misty seaside vistas broke up the wash-and-wear pink walls above the plastic handrails.
Megan signed in at the front desk. “How is Bob today, Jude?”
“A bit brighter. He’s in the sunroom. He’s got a surprise for you.”
Megan raised her eyebrows and made her way along the corridor as she did every Wednesday afternoon. A stooped elderly woman in a florid housecoat blocked her way with her walker. Looking up with effort, the resident fixed Megan with her watery blue eyes and spoke in a raspy voice: “Have you seen my Minsky?”
“No, I don’t believe I have …”
“He went out
