3
“Mrs. J.?” Kym squeaked.
Mrs. Janowski collapsed onto the ground.
“Call nine-one-one,” I directed Sylvia.
The rest of us huddled near Mrs. Janowski. I held her wrist to check her pulse. It was steady but a little slow. I listened to make sure she was breathing. Slow, shallow breaths assured me she wouldn’t need CPR. At least not right now. There was nothing to do but wait for the ambulance.
“I can’t remember all of my CPR training, but we can at least keep her warm with a blanket,” I said.
Kym bounded over to the wingback chair to retrieve an afghan. She laid it over Mrs. Janowski. We all watched as the minutes ticked by. Every few seconds I rechecked her pulse and breathing. Edna twisted her hands in knots. Ida took a swig directly from her flask.
Finally, after what seemed like
