She tried to swallow her consternation. She did not want to be one of those old people who detest change—Louise had warned her against this very thing. But she couldn’t help reeling with disappointment. Last night she’d worked her balky faucets to fill the tub high and spritzed the water with almond oil. This morning she’d dabbed perfume behind her ears. She hadn’t counted on being the third wheel. Already too hot in her long-sleeved blouse, she felt like a collapsed pudding, a leftover that someone had forgotten on the seat.
