They were passionate about something together, and that was huge to me. As tough as my aunt Jackie pretended to be, she was the biggest chicken when it came to hospitals. Maybe she was afraid they were going to lock her in one. Instead, she asked that I go, and I was happy to oblige. I made a trip to St. Luke’s today to visit Mr. James after Jackie had said he was admitted. I didn’t know much about him, but I knew he wasn’t doing well. I believe Jackie’s exact words were “at death’s door.” She wasn’t anything if she wasn’t blunt and almost cold with her manner. What a horrible expression, if you ask me. Jackie doesn’t do hospitals. In fact, she has only been three times in her entire life, and one of those was when I met her after the horse had kicked her. She only came that time because of the insistence of the person who saw it at her stables and feared she would have a brain embolism and die in her sleep. Anyway, I walk around the gift shop, never wanting to go in a room empty handed.
