Unformatted text preview: m, ask him to come. The phone was all tied up, naturally. In her slip and bra, she pyrooted through the closet for better clothes. There were none. She unlocked the door, and crossed the hall to Mom's room. No one even noticed her. All the conversation came up the stairwell like a roar. Car doors were slamming outside. Ancient Evelyn was crying somewhere loudly and terribly. CeeCee's closet. CeeCee had been only five foot one, and Mona was almost that now. She pyrooted through the dresses and coats and suits until she found a little skirt, too short, Mom had said, Well, that's just fine, and then one of those frilly blouses CeeCee wore between about nine and eleven each morning before drinking lunch and putting on her nightgown to watch the afternoon soaps in the living room. Well, CeeCee wasn't going to do that anymore, was she? Mona's head was spinning. These clothes smelled like Mother. She thought of 297 that smell in the hospital. No, it wasn't here, nowhere here. Or she would have caught...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10