Monday, January 17, 2011

It's been five days since my sister's letter arrived, and I'm ready to phone her. But a call is expensive, and I don't know whether she'll be there, whether she'll answer. She must have a cell phone, but I don't have her number. This is ridiculous.

How long does it take to run these tests? How long until the results come back from the lab?

I'm knitting like a mad woman. I've stopped reading books. I'm desperate now for cash--and news. I could make another trip to Ushuaia, maybe find some kind of late-Autumn customers looking for pullovers or cardigans. But I don't want to leave and miss the mail.

I hear steps outside, and a quick knock, and Alex opens the door. A swale of health and energy.


I set my needles down.

"No, come on in. I'll make you some tea."

"I won't stay. I'm making the mail rounds today, and I brought you this."

The thin blue envelope looks extra fragile in his hand. I take it slowly.

"Good luck," he adds as he closes the door.

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