Nov 2 A Decision Must Be Made

This month I am part of a group that is doing a flash fiction piece a day. We have prompts. The first was a red sweater. Flash fiction is usually a complete story under 750 words. One of the most famous which may or may not have been written by Hemingway. Baby shoes. For sale. Never worn."

A Decision Must Be Made

 

“Thank God, you found her,” Alexa said to the policeman.

“This lovely young man brought me home,” Greta, Alexa’s mother, said. “Perhaps we could give him a cup of tea. Do we have any chocolate cake?”

“Thank you, Mam, but I’ve to get back to work.”

Her mother had headed for the kitchen ignoring what the cop said.

“You really need to keep a better eye on her. This is the third time this month.”

Maybe you can loan me your handcuffs, Alexa wanted to say, but she didn’t. She watched him walk to the cruiser before going into the kitchen. At least this time, her mother hadn’t set fire to a dish towel when she was boiling water for tea. She never used the kettle.

“Let’s have beans for supper, Mom.”

Alexa set her mother to sorting the dry beans. Greta was able to do this for a long time.

Taking her phone into the dining room where she could still watch her mother, she dialed her sister.

“It happened again,” she said to Ellen. “Officer Andrews brought her back.”

“You’ve got to keep a better watch on her.”

“That’s what the cop said. I can’t do this anymore.”

Alexa had moved her real estate work from the agency to her home. She arranged all her viewings in the afternoon when the high school girl next door could watch Greta. It was too much responsibility for an 18-year old. Anyway, she’d be leaving for university in the autumn. “Come over this weekend. I’ve got brochures from several nursing homes.”

“It will be too expensive,” Ellen said.

Alexa had had it with her sister putting it all on her.

“We find a nursing home, or you take Mom.”

“I can’t take her, you know that would drive Jason crazy. You’re single.”

“And I’ve done this for two years. We need to make a decision. Either a nursing home or your home. Otherwise, I will move and not leave a forwarding address.

Alexa knew she never would do that, but she’d learned long ago, that Ellen needed to be forced into decisions. Only when there was no choice would she be budged.

“I’ll see you Saturday.”

“Bring Chinese food.”