It was dark in Fern’s hospital room when Donald pushed the door open and peered in. Fern was huddled in the regulation bed in the regulation gown, a cast adorning her arm. He started to back out, but she stopped him with, “I’m awake.”
He slipped through and closed the door behind him.
“You forget who’s the bopper in this family, Fernie?”
Fern looked up, her face so downcast, Donald felt sorry about ribbing her. Ponderously he trod over to her and patted her broken arm.
“Never mind.” His voice was gruff. “Weren’t such a bad idea, you know. If it had worked, our troubles’d be over. Weren’t your fault it didn’t, neither.”
“She sent me flowers, Donald.” She nodded toward the tasteful arrangement brightening the darkest corner of the room.
“Damn! Anybody else take a dive off an escalator,
