“How’s it going at the theatre club?” Granny Violet asks me, shuffling the cards between her fingers deformed by arthritis.
Her bracelets jingle with every movement of her wrists. I stopped by to pay her a little visit after work. We’re sitting on the terrace of the retirement home. The sun is still very present, even if the temperature is more acceptable.
“Well. It could be better.”
“Loraine’s rather narrow-minded in her ways,” comments Grandma.
I’m surprised:
“You know her?”
“Yes, kind of.”
I feel she’s evading the question.
“In what way?”
Granny sighs and says:
“She came to see me when she started her theatre group a few years ago. She wanted me to give her a hand.”
“And you did?”
My grandmother has a disdainful pout. I answer for her:
“Let me guess. You couldn’t stand not
