Errand list in hand. Good.

Purse on shoulder. Good.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jody Rich lives in Waterville with Rosemary and their cat Lexus.

Keys in other hand. Good to go.

I put my hand on the doorknob to leave when something didn’t feel right.

Criminy, I didn’t have my glasses. I chuckle at the thought of driving around town without them. All fuzzy-edged. The idea of the headache I would build from eye strain wasn’t a funny thought, though.

Back into the kitchen to check the counter where I had made the list. Not there.

Further backward chaining into the living room to check the coffee table where I’d sipped my morning green tea watching Nora and Gayle deliver the morning news. Not there, either. Dang it.

Alrighty-then, into the bedroom to check the bureau where I had pulled on a turtleneck. Still no glasses!

Were my glasses on the vanity in the bathroom where I had washed my face? No, they are not. Grumble.

Last chance, were they on the bedside table where I read before sleep last night? No! For the love of Pete-er, Paul and Mary, where were my eyeglasses!

This was beyond my skill set. Time to call in my support system. Rosemary was in the basement doing a round of “Do I love this – can I chuck it – do I give it away.”

Ro was standing by the pool table using it as a sorting station. She looked up at me.

“Rosemary, I need your help. Do you have any idea where I’ve left my glasses? I’ve been all over this house, retracing my steps and can’t find them.”

There was a millisecond of concentrated thought.

The next was one of concern.

In the next smidge of a second, the furthest corners of her mouth ever-so-slightly twitched.

I saw her eyes sparkle and her mouth started to smile against her better wishes.

Without a sound, Ro nodded her head and her smile was wide by now.

She tapped her own eyeglass frames.

“No!” I reached up and felt my own face, and there they were. My eyeglasses. On my face.

“Don’t ever leave me, Rosemary.”