Orchids and Stone Read Online Free

know her. I’m not her mother. She’s robbing me. Please, Daphne, you have to help me.”
    “It’s so hard when she’s like this,” the woman in black wool whispered to Daphne in a strained voice, then touched one finger to her temple. “Are your parents . . . healthy?”
    Daphne felt her face tighten. Strangers should not accost each other, exchange names, or inquire about one another’s families. That’s how it is, especially in big cities. A stranger should not inquire about her parents, making her think about her father’s death, which made her think of her beautiful, wild sister who would have been forty on Sunday. The woman in black shouldn’t be making a demeaning gesture about her crazy, old mother. And Daphne shouldn’t be bothered by an Alzheimer’s patient wandering in the Peace Park. She shouldn’t be in their world at all, and they shouldn’t be in hers.
    “I’m not her mother,” the old woman snapped at Daphne. “She’s trying to steal all my money. Please help me.”
    The Northwest’s bipolar weather, offering holes of sunshine minutes earlier, darkened and allowed a few drops of rain. The old woman grabbed at Daphne’s arm. The younger woman blocked the effort and began marching the old lady away with forced cheer in her voice. “It’s time to go now. You have to come with me.”
    Daphne sank back to the bench. She couldn’t force Jed and Josie to be more pleasant, to not make snide remarks when Vic wasn’t close enough to hear. To appreciate a dinner Daphne prepared. To enjoy a movie Daphne picked out. To say thank you when Daphne remembered where Josie left her history book.
    The old woman shouted over her shoulder to Daphne. “Please help me! Really, I don’t know her.”
    What if the old lady were telling the truth? If Daphne had her phone, she could call someone. But who? Who should she call over a sad, crazy-sounding old lady pushing her day further off-kilter? Was this a 911-type call? She’d left her phone charging by the stove, right where Josie had left her schoolbook with the history assignment that was due tomorrow. And if Josie hadn’t forgotten the book, Daphne and Vic might now be through dropping the kids off at Vic’s ex, might have weathered it well. Might be laughing and kissing their way home or pulling up at some corner bakery, ready to share a cappuccino. They might talk. Or they might put off the talking they sorely needed to do.
    One robin would be alive.
    Daphne looked back across the park toward the house, thinking of Grazie and the Old Dog Decision. Voices carried from beyond the curve on the path to Eastpark.
    “Come on, Mother.”
    “Someone, help me!”
    Daphne wished for a graceful exit. Come on, Mother. She’d be saying the same words by the end of the week. She took a few half-hearted steps after them but looked over her shoulder toward the direction she wanted to go. At home, she could take a hot shower alone. Or maybe Vic would be back. He’d said he didn’t mind her not going. He’d be in a good mood. She could see them having a good rest-of-the-day, alone together.
    Perhaps five minutes ago, she’d come into the park for peace. No more than ten minutes. A quarter of an hour ago, she’d been in the car with Vic and the kids. The difference a bit of time makes, it floored Daphne. How things change. Her father had said a few minutes was all it took. A bit of effort and everything could change, if only people would make the effort.
    “Look, wait a minute,” she called, but not loud enough to make a difference. She half-walked, half-jogged for the last place she’d seen the two women, then continued down the path.
    “I’m being kidnapped! They’re going to rob me!” The cries came from the edge of the park. Daphne ran until she could see them again.
    They were almost to Eastpark Avenue. A silver boat of a car waited there, a big, late-year American model. The vehicle purred. A stocky man waited in the driver’s seat. Words passed