Patch of Trouble

Chapter Two-3

Miss Sissy’s eyes lit up at the mention of the Patchwork Cottage. “Posy is there. And a cat! Maisie.”

The doctor gave a resigned sigh. “I only mentioned it because, if she’s prone to taking tumbles, she might have a fall at home and not be able to get help for a while. That can be very distressing. Does she at least have a cell phone?”

Beatrice shook her head. She knew that Miss Sissy had even had her regular phone service disconnected recently for failure to pay. It had been an oversight on Miss Sissy’s part, and it seemed to indicate that some things were slipping past her.

The doctor glanced at his watch. “I’ve got many more patients to see. Your friend is ready to be released for home. But this is my only bit of advice for you—get her a cell phone. Make sure she knows how to use it and charge it. And that she carries it with her.”

And that I receive the bills, thought Beatrice rather glumly. “That won’t be a problem,” she said. “Thanks for your time.”

Miss Sissy glared at the doctor as he walked out. “Mutant!” she hissed.

Beatrice was used to Miss Sissy’s random insults or name calling, so ignored her. Although she did spare a hasty glance at the door in the hopes the doctor hadn’t heard her. “I brought something for you,” she said quickly, in an attempt to salvage their visit.

Miss Sissy’s beady eyes lit up as Beatrice pulled the quilt from the tote bag and carefully covered Miss Sissy with it.

The old woman reached out a gnarled hand to gently run her fingers over the fabric. “Pretty,” she said gruffly.

Beatrice gave a small sigh of relief. “I’m glad you like it.”

“For me to keep?” asked Miss Sissy, tilting her chin in determination.

That hadn’t really been part of the original plan. And Miss Sissy probably had over a hundred quilts at her house. She’d been quilting for seventy years, for heaven’s sake. And she was a far better quilter than Beatrice was. “Of course,” said Beatrice stiffly.

Miss Sissy smiled in satisfaction.

Now that she was in a better mood, Beatrice decided to move on to a more sensitive topic. “Do you think you could learn to use a phone like this one, Miss Sissy?” she asked. She pulled out her smart phone and handed it to the old woman.

Miss Sissy glared suspiciously at the device. It wasn’t the most expensive phone and it didn’t have all the bells and whistles of some others ... but apparently it was alarming enough.

“Maybe one of those basic phones then,” said Beatrice with a sigh.

Miss Sissy looked cunning. “One that flips open.”

“Oh, so you do know something about phones. You want a flip phone. That should be easy enough,” said Beatrice. “I’ll pick one up and show you how to use it.”

Miss Sissy gave her a scornful look. “I use phones!”

“Yes, but this phone will allow you to send text messages. At least, it will if I buy a plan for it, which I guess I should,” said Beatrice.

Her thoughts on inexpensive pay-as-you-go phones with hopefully inexpensive pay-as-you-go texting were cut short by a rap on the hospital door as Ramsay poked his rather anxious face around it.