“They’re about to,” she says, clearly at the hospital, hence her muted voice. “They’re giving him a waterproof cast. That’ll be one less worry.”

“Where are you?

“Urgent Care.” She is instantly defensive. “It’s ten minutes from the house—and I knew it wasn’t major, so if you’re thinking I should have gone to Westerly Hospital and waited forever, don’t say it. Twenty minutes was bad enough. Dad kept getting up from his chair and going to the desk to ask when Dr. Cronin would arrive. Remember Cronin? His old PCP? Who died ten years ago?” I didn’t know he had died, just one more thing I had missed, but Anne says, “Dad has the patience of a three-year-old.”

“Is it the Urgent Care at the crossroads?”

There is a short pause, then a cautious, “Yes…” Clearly, she wonders how I know, since it was not there when I left town.

“I’ll be right there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Joy and I are in Bay Bluff.”

Her voice jumps. “You are? Where? Since when?”

“We just got here.”

“At the house?”

“No. The square. We couldn’t resist stopping.”

“Why didn’t you say you were coming? I mean, how fair is that, Mallory? You haven’t been home in years and you just show up? The house is a mess. If I’d known, I’d have cleaned, I’d have aired out your room, I’d have been prepared.” Here’s the chastisement, though it sounds more like hurt.

Feeling guilty for that, I say a soft, “I wanted to surprise you, Annie. We can be at Urgent Care in fifteen minutes.”

“It’ll take you eight.”

“Yes, but my daughter hasn’t eaten since breakfast. We’ll get something to go. Should I get something for you and Dad?”

Since the answer to that is a no, Joy and I wolf down our own lunches as we drive—a veggie burger for her, fried clams (could not resist) for me. The wolfing down is starvation on Joy’s part, nervousness on mine. I haven’t seen my father in three years, and, forget Alzheimer’s disease or dementia or even just ordinary old age, the man terrifies me. He always has, which is probably the major reason I haven’t been back to see him sooner.

Parking in the lot outside Urgent Care, we run up the steps and down the porch to the wavy glass door. We’re barely into the reception area when my father and sister emerge from an inner office.