I looked across the room at Mom, still surrounded by her friends, still sharp and engaged. Then I looked at Dr. Peterson, still talking with Paul, still taking notes.
“And if she passes these tests?”
Linda’s voice turned patient, the way you would talk to a child.
“She’s not going to pass. People with her condition rarely do.”
Her condition.
Mom did not have a condition beyond being eighty-five years old. But apparently, in Linda’s world, being old was condition enough.
“I want to be there when he talks to her.”
“That might make her nervous. Dr. Peterson prefers to conduct these evaluations in private.”
Of course he did. It was easier to manipulate responses when there were no witnesses.
“Then I want to review his notes afterward.”
“Doctor-patient confidentiality prevents—”
“I want copies of everything, Linda. The power of attorney documents, the medical assessment, the nursing-home applications. If you’re doing this for Mom’s own good, you should have no problem sharing the paperwork.”
Linda’s smile faltered.
“Of course. I’ll have everything ready for you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. When it would be too late to stop whatever they had planned for that night.
“Actually,” I said, “I’d like to see the power of attorney documents tonight, just to understand exactly what authority you have.”
“They’re at home.”
“Then let’s go get them.”
“Carol, I’m not leaving Mom’s party to drive home for paperwork. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then maybe this whole conversation is premature. Maybe we should wait until I can review the documents before making any decisions.”
I watched Linda’s face cycle through frustration, anger, and calculation. She needed me on board, or at least neutralized. Having me actively opposed to the plan would create complications.
“Fine,” she said finally. “I’ll bring the paperwork to your house tomorrow morning. We can review everything together.”
“What time?”
“Nine o’clock.”
By nine o’clock tomorrow, if their plan worked, Mom would already be in the nursing home, confused and drugged, with no way to fight the commitment.
“Actually,” I said, “why don’t I just come home with you tonight after the party? We can review everything then, and I can help you prepare for Monday’s meeting.”
Linda’s eyes narrowed. She was trying to figure out why I was suddenly so eager to be involved when I had seemed absent from Mom’s care for months.
“That’s very thoughtful, Carol, but it’s been a long day, and I think we’d both benefit from a good night’s sleep before diving into complicated legal documents.”
“I’m a night owl, and this is too important to delay.”
We stared at each other, and I could see Linda’s mind working frantically. She needed to get Mom alone that night. She needed me out of the way, but she also could not afford to make me suspicious by being too obvious about it.
“Let me talk to Paul,” she said finally. “Maybe we can arrange something.”
She walked away, leaving me standing by the kitchen, watching the party continue around me. But now everything looked different. Every conversation, every interaction, every innocent moment was potentially part of Linda and Paul’s plan.
I looked around for Jason and spotted him still sitting with Mom, both of them laughing at something Mrs. Henderson was saying. At least he was keeping her safe for now.
But the night was still young, and Linda and Paul were running out of time to complete their scheme, which meant they might start taking risks. Risky people do dangerous things.
I watched Linda cross the room to Paul, her posture tense despite her smile. They spoke in low tones, Paul’s expression darkening as she explained whatever obstacle I had just become. Dr. Peterson joined their conversation, and all three of them glanced in my direction.
The plan was falling apart, and they knew it.
Jason appeared beside me holding two cups of punch.
“You look like you need this.”
“Thanks.”
I took the cup but did not drink.
“How’s Mom?”
“Sharp as ever. She just told Mrs. Henderson the entire plot of a book she read last week. Remembered every character’s name and all the plot twists.”
“So much for cognitive decline.”
