A tear slid down her cheek. “I can’t bear to go to the nursing home anymore. Mrs. Nielson isn’t making any progress. She’s just slipping away. Mr. Bender has pneumonia.”

He cuddled her tight against his chest and wished he could help her. He stroked the hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. “I can’t make death and sickness go away, but I can be here at the end of the day when you need someone to talk to. It seems to me there’s a lot of latitude in geriatric counseling. Maybe you need a job that deals with the problems of younger seniors…people like Elsie.”

That brought a weak smile to her lips. “There’s not another person on the face of this earth like Elsie. What’s going to happen to her job when Menken returns?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.” He kissed her again and held her at arm’s length. “Why don’t you come over after work, and I’ll throw some hamburgers on the old barbecue grill?”

“Last time you tried to cook hamburgers you set your chef’s apron on fire.”

“I think I’ve got the hang of it now.”

She loved him more than life itself, she thought. And deep down inside she wanted to believe things would work out. The natural optimist in her wanted to think she was suffering from extended PMS, or low blood sugar, or not enough fiber—and the proper diet would fix everything. A physical reason for her nervous stomach was much more acceptable to her than admitting she was an emotional basket case. “I’ve made a doctor’s appointment for after work today. He’s going to do some blood tests. Maybe I just need vitamins.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No,” she said dully. “I need to do this myself. I’ll stop by on my way home. It should be around seven. Please don’t start up the grill until I get here. I hate to think of you going up in flames and no one around to hose you down.”