The house looked like every other house on that street – beige, boring and affordable. Even before I stepped inside, I knew what I’d see: the standard wall-to-wall carpet, an oldish kitchen, and quite possibly, two bedrooms and two bathrooms. I asked Leona for a tour soon after we stepped inside, and I gave myself a pat on the back for the good guess. Leona’s daughter had tried to liven things up a bit, though, by painting one wall of her bedroom a deep red, and hanging black-framed sepia photographs of 60’s Las Vegas on them. Living with her mother in this boring house must’ve cramped her style, but Leona went on and on about what a good daughter Natasha was. “The boys moved out as soon as they could,” she said, “But Natasha’s still with me. I don’t want to move into a nursing home while I’m still so active.” Leona was a couple of inches taller than Nanna, but that was enough to create the impression of a much bigger person.
