It had to be You

the Bisquick she’d purchased.
    “It doesn’t start today, does it?“ Robert asked. “Not for you. I’m working it out today with Miss Twibell.“
    “Who’s she?“
    “She has the mansion just north of us. You’ve seen her. She brought two of her ladies to the Fate once. The heavy one who walked with two sticks, remember? And the smaller one.“
    “I have a vague recollection. The lady with the sticks was funny. I chatted with her a bit and found her a chair. She sat knitting and making jokes with the children. What do you mean about ‘two of her ladies’?“
    “She’s turned her big house into a nursing home. She called this morning saying she’d heard from Mrs. Tarkington that we’d taken over teaching for the missing teacher for a couple weeks and wondered if we’d help her out for a while at the nursing home.“
    “For pay?“ Robert asked.
    “Yes. That’s what I need to discuss with her. She’s having trouble with her bunions, she said, and one of the young women who work for her is out sick with the flu.“
    “This won’t involve anything nasty, will it? We don’t empty bedpans or wash out nasty wounds, do we?“
    “I’ll make sure we don’t,“ Lily said with a shudder. “I need to get over there soon.“
    “Want me to drive you?“
    “I wouldn’t ride with you in the condition you’re in. I’ll walk. It’s not far.”
    Robert looked relieved. Normally any excuse to swan around in the big butter-yellow Duesie appealed to him—except today.
    Lily was shivering as she approached the house. She’d only worn an ordinary coat and wished she’d put on her tatty old sable one. In spite of the cold, she was impressed at how well fitted out this house was. It wasn’t quite as big as Grace and Favor but was still a substantial three-story brick house. The drive was a perfection of small stones, carefully raked. Along the side of the drive, the little points of tulips were just poking up through the ground. There were the ghosts of gardens starting to grow around the front. To the side, a small grove of what appeared to be some kind of fruit trees had a faint green flush of green. Well-kept grass was just greening up as well. And freshly painted dark blue shutters on all the windows made the white of the painted bricks sparkle, even on a cold, dreary day.
    Miss Twibell must have had the money to keep up the house and grounds better than they could manage at Grace and Favor. The front door was opened by a pretty young Negro woman, wearing a freshly pressed housedress with a flowered pattern. A little boy was at her side.
    “You must be Miss Brewster. I’m Doreen, the laundress. I’m filling in on ‘door duty’ for Mattie, who’s out sick. Miss Twibell is confined to the second floor what with her bunions acting up. She said you could go straight up.“
    “Thank you, Doreen. What a cute little boy you have. What’s his name?“
    “Buddy. Really Sam. But he’s my buddy, aren’t you, honey-child?“ The little boy smiled and hid his face in her apron.
    Lily went up the center flight of stairs and found Miss Twibell waiting in a chair in the middle of the central hallway. “Are you doing any better yet?“ Lily asked.
    “Not much,“ Miss Twibell said, getting to her feet with a grimace. “They flare up about this time every year. It must be the change in weather. Let me introduce you to our people. Then we’ll talk about what I need and what I’ll pay.“
    “I already met Doreen and Buddy downstairs,“ Lily said, offering her arm as support, which Miss Twibell took gratefully.
    Lily had only seen her briefly at the Fate, but not in her crisp white starched uniform with the upside-down watch on her bodice and the stethoscope around her neck. Miss Twibell might have been anywhere between thirty-five and forty-five. She was taller than Lily, a little heavier, andhad dark blond hair in a neat bun at the back of her neck with a net over it.
    They entered an open door to a big living room with a warm pink carpet and two sofas and three comfy-looking chairs with a good antique table by each. In front of the sofa was a big low table with newspapers and magazines in neat piles, as well as a vase of pink hothouse tulips, half them still in bud, the rest in bloom. Lily assumed Miss Twibell probably had a substantial private income to afford such flowers.
    At the far end of the huge room, there were sparkling white cabinets with locks on the glass doors, containing an array of