Chapter Nineteen
Beatrice and Meadow navigated the winding hallways to find the elevator and Rita’s room. When they lightly knocked at the door, she answered, wearing a pristine, conservative nightgown and robe with her white hair pulled back in a chignon.
“Oh!” said Meadow. “Rita, we’re sorry. We should have called first, but I didn’t have your number.” She gave the older woman a hug. “It’s been a long time. This is Beatrice Coleman, a friend of mine.”
Rita greeted Beatrice with a curt nod and then said to Meadow, “No need to apologize. This is my usual attire. At this point in my life I figured, who really cares? I’d rather be comfortable.”
She led them into a small room with a loveseat backed in front of a window, a bed against another wall, and an armchair in a corner. Rita sat i
