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told me you were in Europe for two weeks.”
    â€œWhich brother?” I asked.
    â€œYou know,” he said. “The one with the hair.”
    I have six brothers, and the last time I checked, they all had hair. Granddaddy was terrible with names. But my oldest brother is the only one of the whole useless bunch who ever bothers to call or visit my grandparents, so it was a good guess that was who he was referring to.
    â€œArch? Did Arch come to visit? How nice!”
    â€œArch,” Granddaddy said, nodding happily. “He’s a hairy sumbitch, isn’t he?”
    â€œGranddaddy! I think Arch is very nice looking. His beard makes him look distinguished.”
    â€œHairy like an ape,” Granddaddy insisted. “He doesn’t get that from the Loudermilk side of the family. Your mother’s people were a hairy bunch though. There was an uncle of hers I met one time looked just like that Rasputin fella over there in Russia. But Ellen didn’t have hair like that. Or maybe she just shaved, and I never noticed.”
    â€œNo,” I said, giggling. “I don’t think Mama had an unusual amount of hair.” We’d been talking as I followed him into the abbreviated living room, which was crammed with dark, ornate mahogany furniture, an overstuffed sofa, and a huge console television set, which, as far as I knew, was only ever turned to the weather channel or the stock market channel, with the volume cranked up high.
    I grabbed the remote control from the armrest of Granddaddy’s BarcaLounger, and ratcheted the volume way, way down.
    â€œWhere’s Grandmama?” I asked, peeking around the corner into the kitchenette. An open jar of peanut butter was sitting on the dinette table, with a huge serving spoon stuck into it. The table was littered with candy wrappers and dirty plates and cups. “She’s not napping this early in the day, is she?”
    â€œWho?” Granddaddy asked, plopping down into his chair.
    â€œGrandmama,” I said, trying to be patient. “Your wife, Lorena. Is she asleep?”
    â€œHow should I know?” he said, looking annoyed. “Ask the nurse.”
    â€œNurse?” I pushed open the door to the bedroom, but the bed, though slightly rumpled, was made, and empty. “What nurse? Granddaddy, where’s Lorena?”
    He made a vague jabbing gesture with his finger. “Over there.”
    â€œWhere over there?” I sat down on the arm of his chair and grasped his hand.
    â€œYou know,” he said, leaning forward to get a better view of the television, which I was blocking. “Over there in the building.”
    I took the remote control and snapped off the television. “Granddaddy! Please. What building? Where did Lorena go? Can you tell me?”
    â€œHell, yes, I can tell you,” he exploded. “Think I’m senile? Like I said, she’s over there in that big building, over yonder. You know. The place. The doctor says she can’t come home until she pees better.”
    â€œThe hospital?” I asked, still groping for understanding. “Are you telling me Grandmama is in the hospital? When did this happen?”
    â€œHow should I know?” Granddaddy said. “I can’t keep track of all the comings and goings around here. All I know is, I ain’t had a hot meal since who knows when.”
    I took my cell phone out of my purse and called my brother Arch, praying that he would be at his desk.
    â€œArch? It’s BeBe. I’m at the home with Granddaddy. Do you know anything about Grandmama going into the hospital?”
    â€œNooo,” he said cautiously. “I saw her last week, Sunday maybe. She seemed fine. A little ditsy, but no more than usual. Is that what Granddaddy is telling you?”
    â€œI think so,” I said with a sigh. “She’s definitely not here. The bed hasn’t been slept in, the kitchen’s a mess, and I think he’s