by J. D. Robb
“That’s about what I calculated, but with the discrepancy between the hours worked for men and women of 7.9 versus 7.1 and people with degrees working 3.1 hours versus high school grads working 7.1—”
“Okay, I got it,” Bonnie said. “Tough problem, but we both came to the same general deduction. Right?”
“Yes.” They arrived at the top of the stairs. “So?”
“So, I’m going to need you to help me haul the magic carpet from the attic into Pim’s room.” She saw the pained grimace on her sister’s face and slung an arm across her shoulders as she led her toward the attic door. “Man, that rug was spinning so fast earlier I bet there isn’t one iota of dust on it.” Janice didn’t look impressed. “Just think of all the favors I’m going to owe you after this.”
That perked her up. She lifted a single brow to let her sister know that she wouldn’t forget and that payback was hell—but she didn’t really scare Bonnie.
“Tell me what happened,” Jan said softly and seriously, having reached the limit of her patience.
With great relish, Bonnie told her everything from the thrill of Cal’s kiss to being the proud owner of more than one pair of Ferragamo pumps.
“So you were always meant to be with Joe. God, that’s so romantic.”
“Our paths were meant to cross, that’s for sure. But whether we die and go to prison or become high school sweethearts who get married and have kids and live relatively happily ever after all depends on the decisions we make in the time it takes our hearts to beat.” She reached past her sister and opened the door to the attic. “I’ll never take what I have for granted again.” She paused. “If I do, you smack me, okay?”
“With pleasure.”
“You didn’t come up here after I left, did you?”
“You mean deliberately? Without force or impending disaster? No.”
“I don’t remember turning out the light, but I must have,” she said, pulling the cord that turned it on again.
And there it was, the amazing, spectacular carpet—its field and medallion, the brackets and borders crisp and bold and subtle at once; every warp and weft woven together with great skill and beauty…and magic.
“Are you sure Pim’s up to, you know, riding her magic carpet?” Janice asked as they approached it.
“I don’t know, but I want to give it a try. If she’s got something important to do I want to give her the chance. We owe her at least that.”
“What about me? Should I take a spin on this thing? Literally.”
“Do you want to?” Bonnie let out a labored ugh when she lifted the center and one end of the special rug, shuffling backward to face the steps and the door.
“Not really.”
“Maybe when Pim…doesn’t need it anymore or when you have a question with no good answer.”
“Are you going to ride it again?”
“No.” Bonnie said, quick and firm. “Never again.”
“Hmm. And Joe?”
“I love Joe…even when his name is Cal. And he doesn’t want to ride it again either.”
“What?”
“Joe is moving home as we speak, then he’s going to pick up Susan and a pizza and we’re going to live happily ever after. Lift your end higher over the railing there. That’s it. Good.”
“Well, that’s the best damn news ever,” Jan said, groaning laboriously. “I can’t believe we’re doing this ourselves when we both have big, strong husbands to call.”
“We’re doing it because we can, and because the fewer people who know about the rug, the better, right?”
“Not even Roger? I’m horrible at keeping…” Her sister had made the turn out the door at the bottom of the steps, but the last eighteen inches of the rug were jammed. Janice rammed it through like a pro. “…secrets from Roger. Even when I want to.”
“Then it’s okay to tell Roger, but I have to warn you he’ll probably think you’re insane.”
Janice laughed from the caboose. “That wouldn’t be something new, you know.”
They set the rolled-up rug against the baseboard in the hall a few feet from Pim’s bedroom, then tiptoed to the door. Bonnie tapped lightly and the middle-aged night nurse answered.
“Hi, Lucy, how are you?” Bonnie asked, smiling too big.
“I’m good. Can I get something for you? Pim is asleep finally.”
“No. We don’t need anything. But it’s getting late and Jan and I were thinking of going home. We thought you might like to take a break first.” She waved an arm. “Bathroom, food, drinks…Run around outside to stir up your blood a little.”
“I have taken care of my patients for many years at night,” Lucy said, more than a little huffy. “And I have never fallen asleep or needed to have my blood stirred.”
Janice stepped forward. She was the people handler in the family. “What my sister meant to say was that we’d like you to go downstairs until we call you to return because we want some private time with our Pim.”
Lucy made a tsk noise, grabbed her sweater off the rocking chair she preferred, and hurried out of the room.
“If that woman quits, you’ll be doing the nightshift until you can replace her,” Bonnie muttered, bending over the rug and picking it up again.
“Well, you had her running around outside to stay awake. The truth is so much simpler.” She picked up her end, always aware of her manicure, which was less than a week old.
“I’ll remember that.”
They waddled and pushed and jerked the rug, then stood still as statues, hoping that what they were feeling wasn’t happening. Bonnie made a half-turn to see Janice’s face go pale.
“It’s for Pim, Jan,” Bonnie said, feeling she had an affinity for the spirit of the carpet—all she could feel from it was gentleness and an eager desire to be near Pim. “Don’t be afraid. The carpet’s getting warm for her, not for us. Come on.”
They put their burden carefully on the floor…just in case…and closed the door. And neither one of them hesitated long before approaching the old woman’s bed.
She was tiny and thin-skinned. Bonnie had seen plenty of pictures of her with the raven-black locks of her youth, but in real life she’d never seen anything but the continually neat waves and curls permanently pressed into her silver-white hair.
“Look at her,” Jan said in a whisper. “Always the lady: She’s got blush and lipstick on. Isn’t she something?”
She nodded. “She’s one of a kind, our Pim.”
“But she isn’t dead yet so why are we whispering?” Pim asked, opening only one eye…which was enough. Her eyes were the bluest of blues, laser-quick, and shrewd.
“Oh! You scared me half to death, Pim!” Jan was more surprised than annoyed.
“Pim, you old possum.” Bonnie laughed. She had kids and kids played possum. “You better behave now because we found your magic carpet.”
“Oooooh.” Pim’s eyes and mouth became perfect circles. “My sweet, darling girls, you have saved me.” She clapped her hands, once, dramatically, then threw back the bedsheets like she planned to leap out of bed in her long, white, cotton nightgown. Both women automatically held their hands out, fingers up, to stop her. “Oh, don’t be silly. I’m not going anywhere…I’m slow as a county worker.” She looked straight at Bonnie. “I wasn’t sure if I was making sense when we talked last night. I’m not used to taking so many different prescriptions. Makes me fuzzy.”
“Makes you a little more than that, Pim. I thought you were hallucinating.”
“You were completely crazy is what you were,” Jan said.
The old lady’s laugh was elegant and infectious—a sound Bonnie would always cherish and remember.
“So how do you want to do this, Pim? Do you want to try getting up? Or do you want it in bed with you?”
“It is a lovely piece of art, but that still doesn’t win it a place in one’s bed. Carpets belong on the floor. So if you, my sweet girls, would be so kind as to unroll it there in the space in fro
nt of my dresser, I believe I can handle the rest of this operation on my own.”
While Pim straightened out her nightie, smoothed out the hair on the back of her head, and got her new walker ready for the ride, Bonnie and Janice wordlessly opened up the rug in front of the chest of drawers—but that didn’t mean they weren’t commentating. Head jerks, shoulder rolls, and severely contorted facial expressions were as easy to read in siblings as their DNA.
“Ah, what operation is that, Pim?” Bonnie suspected that she already knew, but with her grandmother’s mental acuity lately…
Pim’s blue eyes rose and took aim, drilled through Janice first and then Bonnie before she looked satisfied and spoke softly. “I think one of you already knows the operation I refer to.”
“I do,” Bonnie admitted freely—to be healthy, clear-minded, and fracture free. “And I think maybe I should or…or Jan should or the nurse or someone should be here with you—just in case something goes wrong.”
“The nurse?” Pim clearly saw her as a security breach.
“Okay. Me or Jan…or Joe.”
She lifted her head with a jolt and for the first time in…ever, looked guilty—though she gave no explanation or excuse or apology and went back to her business.
“Nothing will go wrong, dear.” She cheek-walked to the edge of the bed and lowered her legs into the square of space between the bed and the walker. Matter-of-factly she asked, “And did you, Bonnie girl, make your second wish before dead of night?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The idea of how close she’d come—because of her ignorance of the carpet’s power—to staying on the other side, to being dead right now, nauseated her. “I did. Luckily. The whole thing was an accident…and so was the second wish.”
“I apologize, dear, for sending you to fetch it. I forgot how sensitive it can be. I should have waited for Joe.”
Bonnie opened her mouth to speak, but Janice’s voice came out: “Joe’s been really busy this last month, Pim. Bonnie’s hardly seen him.”
“Too busy to come by and see me even once?”
“He did come…twice…that I know of, maybe more, but you were sleeping.”
Bonnie frowned at her sister, appreciating her willingness to lie for her husband, but fixed on the fact that her timing was a little off. Now that she and Joe were together again, she didn’t care who knew they were apart.
Pim nodded silently, looking at both of them expectantly. They looked back quizzically, clearly wanting to be helpful.
“Go!” she said, when their hovering finally started to get on her nerves.
“But are you sure—”
“Yes. Go.”
Pim was standing independently with her walker as they backed out of the door together, Bonnie’s hand on the doorknob.
She heard the latch click.
Janice said, “Do you think she’ll be all right?”
From behind them in the hallway Pim answered, “Will who be all right?”
Both sisters screamed and fell back against the door…which blocked their exit.
Their hearts hammered under their hands as they took in Pim’s usual healthy color and the lack of a walker. Her favorite cross-trainers were on her feet and a tall glass of milk was clasped in her hand.
“It’s too early for Christmas and Halloween, so you’re not hiding gifts or putting rubber snakes in my bed…though you’re a little old for that now, aren’t you? So why aren’t you at home this time of night?”
“We…we…” Jan was still trying to catch her breath as Pim opened the bedroom door.
“We, ah, were driving by and saw the light on.”
“We just wanted to kiss you good-night.”
Pim smiled her delight. “My sweet girls. Well, come in and let me get settled in bed. You can tuck me in like you used to, when you were up and thought I was still asleep.”
“You were awake?” Jan asked.
“Yes, indeed. I could have spent hours watching you play with my cosmetics, sweet Jannie.” She drank half her milk, slipped out of her sneakers, and climbed into bed with her long, white cotton nightgown tucked in around her. Bonnie went to the far side of the bed while Jan stayed near and together they pulled the sheets tight, stuffing the ends between the mattresses. “Oh, nice and cozy. Thank you, girls.”
Jan leaned in front of Bonnie. “Thank you, Pim, for everything. I don’t say that often enough.” She kissed the lady’s cheek and then her forehead. “I love you.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I love you as well. You’ve made my life an intrepid adventure.”
They smiled warmly and Janice walked lightly across the room to the door.
Bonnie tucked one of Pim’s silver curls behind her ear and smiled into the warm blue waters of her eyes. “Good-night, my Pim. Sleep well.” She kissed the hollow of her cheek. “Light on, down, or off?”
“Lights off in a moment but…but don’t forget, my girl, that wishes alone can’t make it right.” Bonnie froze in place. She realized then that she’d been half-hoping this Pim didn’t know about the carpet or what had transpired in the last few hours. “My darling, wishes are not enough to make your life what you want it to be. Even with a little magic, wishes aren’t enough to make you happy. Courage and faith and love and humor. Friendship. You need hard work and tenacity and a helping hand sometimes. You need good judgment, a sense of fairness, and—”
“A Pim to love you.”