Joe Rashford Grindley, son of Selma Rashford Grindley, had reached the gate of Miriam House. He had to beep the horn a few times before it swung open. He was so annoyed, he parked in the entrance.
This would block the access of paid tenants. They would be forced to walk in the damp grass if they thought to leave.
But so what? Who were they? He was Joe Rashford Grindley!
He pulled his bulk out of the tiny car, (all he could afford) and entered through the open back door to encounter the hideous cleaner, Odette.
She led Joe to the bedroom where his mother lay and stood watching until ordered to leave.
Joe looked at his mother. She resembled a pig on its back. He called her, shook her, she opened her eyes.
“I’m here, Mom.”
“Oh…oh Joe…thanks…thanks for coming.”
Selma could play so humble when it suited her. He knew the only reason she was so soft was that she was gravely ill. And she needed him.