Harsh Pink with Bonus Content Read Free Page B

arrangements.
    “Oh, that place? It’s for old people.” Nana stoops over to smell a pale pink rose, taking her time as she inhales its scent, then says, “Ah.”
    “So, would you want to live in a place like that?”
    Nana stands up and looks curiously at me. “Is that why we came here?”
    I nod.
    “Oh. I thought Diane came to see a friend. She said a friend … a friend …” Her voice trembles and trails off.
    “Her friend told her about this place,” I explain.
    “Oh.” She looks confused now.
    “Mom thinks you’d be happy here.”
    “Happy?” Nana peers at me with faded blue eyes.
    I feel a huge lump in my throat now. “She’s worried about you being home alone during the day, Nana.”
    “Oh. Because I can’t remember things?”
    “Yes. She thinks you could get hurt. Like the time you left the stove on high; you could’ve been burned.”
    She nods eagerly. “Oh, yes, but I don’t cook anymore, Reagan.”
    “I know.”
    “Diane wants me to live here?” Nana turns and looks at the long, low cement building that surrounds us and frowns. “Would you want to live here?”
    “No!” she says quickly, taking the strap of her old black purse higher into both hands and pulling it toward her chest as if she expects to be robbed. Of course, I know there is nothing of real value in her purse. No credit cards or money or anything besides some ruby red lipstick and an ancient silver compact. Mom took all the other things away some time ago. “No,” says Nana in a firm voice. “I would not … not want to live here.”
    I don’t know what to say now. I’m well aware that Mom will be furious at me if I take sides with Nana on this. Especially if she’s in there right now putting together some sort of deal. I need to think fast. “Maybe you could visit here?” I suggest to Nana. But she’s not buying it. She just shakes her head and gets that stubborn look that reminds me of a five-year-old. I link my arm in hers. “Well, don’t worry, Nana,” I say. “No one will make you do something you don’t want to do.”
    “You won’t let Diane put me in here?” she says, looking at me with frightened eyes.
    “You won’t let her lock me up?”
    “I’ll do what I can, Nana.” I walk over to a bench and ask her if she wants to sit and rest while I go look for Mom.
    “You won’t leave me here, will you?” She still looks scared.
    “Of course not,” I assure her. “Just sit here and enjoy the sunshine and roses and I’ll be back as soon as I find Mom. Maybe we can go to Dairy Queen.”
    She smiles at the mention of her favorite treat. “Yes, Dairy Queen! That would be good.”
    So I go off in search of Mom, knowing that I’m probably on a fool’s mission. How on earth am I going to convince my mother that Nana doesn’t belong here? And, I remind myself, Mom hasn’t given me money for my cheerleading uniform yet. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place. Still, I need to stand up for Nana. It’s the least I can do when I consider all she’s done and been for me. I can do this. I find Mom in the lobby, where she is waiting to speak to the head nurse.
    “Nana really doesn’t want to stay here,” I say in my most persuasive voice. “She’s getting all freaked and — “
    “What did you tell her, Reagan?”
    “Nothing,” I say quickly. “I just asked how she liked the place.”
    “So she knows I’m looking at it for her?”
    “She’s forgetful, Mom, not stupid.”
    Mom frowns. “Well, I didn’t expect this to be easy.”
    “Maybe it’s too soon,” I say, nodding over to where an old woman is slumped in a wheelchair, just sitting by herself and staring into space. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s drugged up or what, but it doesn’t look right. “Nana’s not like the people here,” I point out. “She still functions.”
    “It’s just a matter of time, Reagan.”
    “Maybe,” I agree. “But maybe that time isn’t here yet.”
    “I know this is