What she didn't say is she'd be the cause.
I had a great time in East Greenbush, NY last night. Chrissie, the librarian, ran a dynamite program, and the kids in attendance were smart and polite and a pleasure to be around. I went with my friend Cynthia and it was wonderful to drive there and back with her and have a chance to catch up. GPS Thingy wasn't as well behaved as I would have liked (Cynthia doesn't have one, so I wanted to show off), but we didn't get lost going to the library and we found our way back home, in spite of its insistence we go to Boston instead.
When I got home, I found an e-mail from my editor expressing reservations about the current structure of the third book and five phone messages. That's an emergency number in my life, so I wasn't surprised when I found indeed there had been an emergency; my mother had fallen again and had been taken to the local hospital emergency room.
The hospital found my mother delightful but saw no reason to keep her, so I drove the fifteen minutes there, and helped her get back to her home. By the time I got to my apartment, it was 12:55 AM and Nastia Liukin was just about to win Olympic gold.
Much of the day has been spent exploring alternative living arrangements for my mother (and mourning the divorce of Mike and the Mad Dog). I also reread my editor's e-mail (or more accurately, read it, since last night I gave it the most cursory of skimmings), and saw she liked a lot of what I'd come up with, but strongly felt it needed the interweaving to differentiate it from Life As We Knew It and the dead and the gone.
My guess is Nastia Liukin is in a better mood than I am right now. Heck, Mike and the Mad Dog are probably in better moods than I am right now.
Then again, none of them have a GPS Thingy trying to send them to Boston.