Free The Mockingbird Next Door: Life With Harper Lee by Marja Mills Page B

recounting my conversation with Dale, our food arrived, and I had my first look at sawmill gravy, poured over my biscuit. It was thick and white with bits of sausage. I had never learned to like gravy of any kind. At holiday time, my family knew not to pass the gravy boat my way. But if this was part of local culture, and possibly a test ofmy willingness to partake, I was going to eat it all and look like I was enjoying it, no matter what.
    It was viscous stuff. I swallowed hard.
    Nelle dug into her own biscuit and eggs with gusto. That surprised me a bit, because I’d read so much about her reserve. But that was at public events, I suppose. In person, her heartiness was appealing: her relish of the food and coffee; that big laugh; her obvious affection for Alice and Julia and Dale and Tom. I had assumed I would have to keep my distance from the famously private Harper Lee but I couldn’t help but enjoy her company. She might have been prickly but she was a delightful companion.
    I did some more reporting around town for a couple of days. As I was walking from the car to my motel room one afternoon, I felt a lupus flare taking hold, worse than usual. I didn’t know if I’d be able to make the long drive to the airport the next day. It meant a trip to the local emergency room.
    I knew this sensation. It was mounting. I’d been pushing through the fatigue. I recognized the characteristic shooting pains in my fingers and toes
    I’d been more tired the last few days but now it was what the doctors call wipe-out fatigue. Walking to and from the rental car felt like trudging through molasses. Even lying in bed I felt slammed.
    I faxed the Lees that I would have to cut my stay short and thanked them for the time they’d spent with me. Because of their failing hearing, faxing was our most reliable mode of communication. I apologized for rushing off—this was a standard-issue lupus flare, for me, and once I got treatment at the ER I’d be fine and on my way. I’d fax them once I was in Chicago, and keep them posted as I put together the stories.
    I drove the short distance to the hospital and filled out thepaperwork to be evaluated in the emergency room. A nurse took me to one of the private areas and drew blood. I conferred with the white-smocked doctor making his way from one curtained area to the next. We agreed this was probably a flare that could be treated. I’d get home and then deal with my doctors there if needed.
    The nurse started an IV and I started figuring whether it would be realistic to try to drive to the airport later that day. I was resting on a gurney when I heard a voice.
    “Child, what have you done to yourself? Heavens.”
    I knew that husky voice. Nelle had materialized by the gurney.
    I was stunned, and embarrassed. I didn’t want her to go to this trouble or to see me like this. I stood up to greet her and blushed on the spot.
    She gave me a quick hug and then stood back, taking the measure of how I looked.
    I was hoping the hospital’s tile floor would open up and swallow me. Knowing how the Lees felt about journalists, I had taken extra care not to impose on their time and goodwill. For their sake, and mine, it was best I be professional, together, and outa here. This had no place in that picture.
    Instead, here I was, a pale-faced girl in a hospital gown, shaky and embarrassed that Nelle had gone to the time and trouble of driving to the emergency room.
    “You’re so kind to come out here. But really, this is just standard stuff. I’ve dealt with it before.”
    She looked at me skeptically.
    “They’ll do some labs, see where things are. They’ll probably give me a little bit of IV steroids and I’ll be fine.”
    She glanced over at the nurses. She lowered her voice and leaned incloser. “If anyone asks, I’m your mother-in-law. Otherwise they won’t let me stay back here with you. Only relatives. Rules.” She spit out the last word. I smiled.
    Before long, Nelle was on her way, and