"Today. I will," Celia said. "See you. Marsha," she threw back, and marched me to the door. Brenda laughed and followed.
Mom's Kitchen was a small restaurant designed like a roadside diner. There really was a Mom, too, supervising a short-order cook. Everything smelled so crowd I couldn't help being very hungry. For once. Brenda didn't scowl at me when I rea
ched for the biscuits and the jam. In fact, there was a wonderful lightness about the three of us. They had me laughing hysterically when they imitated Marsha Claystone. Celia had her down pat.
"What do you think of your sister?"
We laughed at that and much more. For the first time since I had arrived, I felt more than welcome. I did want to stay longer, but I was worried about Mama. too, After we finished breakfast. I went to the phone to call her. It rang and rang, but she didn't pick up.
"What's going on?" Brenda called from the table. I shook my head. "She doesn't answer."
"Did you call the right number? Do it again," she advised, and I did.
Again, it rang and rang, and Mama didn't pick up. Brenda, now concerned herself, called herself and held the receiver, listening to the constant rims,
"Maybe she went to the doctor or something," Celia offered.
"I have the car." I reminded them. "She could have taken a taxi."
"Mama? No, I doubt that," I said.
"Let's return to the dorm and call from there. I'm sure it's nothin!. She could be in the shower," Celia said.
Brenda and I exchanged looks of concern but agreed to do what she said.
"You know." Celia said as we walked back. "now that you have attended the game and there's no more pressure on her to be here, she probably felt better and went out. Maybe she called a friend."
"How can you say that now? Because she was having so much trouble leaving the house and going anywhere, you said she was developing agoraphobia, right?" I asked.
"That's right, but that's only a suspicion. I'm not qualified to..."
"I looked it up," I quickly admitted. "She is getting that way. Exactly."
Brenda's concern grew stronger. We called again the moment we arrived at the dorm, and again the phone rang and rang. and Mama didn't answer.
"I'd better get started for home," I said. Brenda and Celia looked at each other.
"I'm sure she just went out somehow. Brenda." Celia said. "Okay," she added before Brenda could respond. "We'll follow April back in my car if your mother still doesn't answer by the time April's ready to leave."
"Right," Brenda said.
I went up and got my things together. I moved as quickly as I could, but that didn't matter. More concerned than she had revealed. Brenda was waiting for me in the hallway, and I could tell immediately from the expression on her face that something was terribly wrong.
"What?"
"I called Dora Maxwell and asked her to check on Mama for us.
Mrs. Maxwell was our closest neighbor. She and her husband had been there as long as we had.
"And?"
"She went right over to our house, and she called me."
"What did she say?" I asked, feeling as if I had to pull every word off her tongue,
"She said. 'Brenda, get home as quickly as you can."
"What does that mean?"