"Come over as soon as . . . you can. There's something . . . I need to talk to you about."
My mother, short of breath, sounded ominous. I thought, considering her age, was this the . . .
"Are you OK?" I asked, not really wanting to know the truth.
"Come."
"We'll be there in 35 minutes." I was already looking for the car keys and signally to Rona to get ready.
"Just you."
"Me? Alone?" That was unprecedented. Rona and I have always visited together.
"You. There's something . . ." She didn't or couldn't finish and hung up.