Nearing the end of Chapter 3. (short one)

.....He pulled up along the sidewalk and turned off the car.
As he stepped out to stretch his legs he squinted up at the apartment windows, blocking the sun from his eyes with his hand. He saw an old woman standing in one of the windows looking down at them. Her facial expression was filled with happiness but her brow was confused and worried.

"Chris?" Katrina was already stood at the trunk.
“Do you want a hand with your bag?”
Katrina’s glare said it all: “haven’t we gone through this already”
Chris tossed his hands up surrendering to her independence.
“Where are you staying anyways? I can’t imagine that the hotel is in very good condition anymore—if it’s still even open.”
“Um, well…” Chris chuckled at his stupidity. “I haven’t exactly found a place yet.”
“Were you planning on sleeping in the streets? Was that suppose to help your story; to get a better feel of the land?”
“Well, I was—“
“Come on.” Katrina said in a huff. “I’m sure Mama will let you stay here.”
“I’m sure I can find—“
“TRINKET!” The old woman from the window was now in the middle of the sidewalk halfway between them and the door. Katrina hated when Mama called her by that nickname; it was what her parents called her when she was little and used to dance around in her ballet costume. Her dad always said she “looked like a doll, like a little trinket”.
The old woman wrapped her arms around Katrina and squeezed her into her chest.
How’d she get down so quickly? Chris wondered. He sat back for a moment watching the embrace. Mama looked like she could definitely take care of herself. She was a sturdy woman, pushing five and a half feet in height. She was thick but not chunky. At the same time, she still had the face of a nurturing grandmother; her curly white hair and short glasses made her look like someone out of a Mother Goose fairytale.
She was even wearing an apron.

When Katrina was let go from her death grip, Mama turned to Chris: “Who is this young man that won’t help you with your bag? You didn’t tell me you were bringing a friend.”
“I told him not to help me with my bag. We met on the plane out here. He’s come here to report on the infection Mama.”
Still smiling, Mama looked Chris up and down until her eyes settled on his outstretched hand. She placed her palm in his and waited for him to initiate.
“Hello Chris. My name’s Agatha, but you can call me ‘Mama’—everyone does. Thank you for bringing our little trinket here back to me.”
“My pleasure.”

Mama turned, swinging her arm up around Katrina’s waist. “I bet you two are hungry. I’ve just finished making my second batch of bread today. I made your favorite Trinket: fresh Basil and Cheddar. How about some sandwiches eh?”
Chris followed a few steps behind them. When they got inside, He noticed the marble steps and old fashioned lamps, which looked as though they were just recently converted to electric from oil. Mama flicked the switch up and down a dozen times while the lights flickered. A light two storey’s up stayed on and the rest flickered until they went off. “Bother. Damn electricity” Mama cursed. “Can ya’ll see in the dark?” She started up the stairs not waiting for anyone to follow.
Katrina followed Mama only stopping for a second to look back at Chris and smile. He returned the smile. Rhetorical question he thought, but instead responded with: “I’ll do my best” and started up the steps.
“There are three flights of marble stairs to Mama’s apartment.” Katrina warned.
“Just be careful, the marble steps are worn and—“
Without warning Chris slipped up the stairs, just barely grabbing hold of wooden railing post, which acted as a pivot point and Chris swung around and smashed his head into the square post on the other side. “Slippery.” Chris confirmed. He rubbed his head realized he was smearing warm liquid across his forehead. “Uh, I think I’m bleeding.”
“Oh Dear, Oh dear. These damn steps. Come on honey hurry so you don’t bleed all over the place.” Mama put her arm around Chris’ waist as if she was going to support him. She glanced back over her shoulder at the door to make sure it was locked.

When they reached Mama’s apartment, she unlocked the door and let them in. “Go into the kitchen! I’ll get the first aid kit.” And she ran off down the hallway through the kitchen. The apartment was decorated nicely and looked very much like a safe place to be. To the right in the living area there were pictures on the fireplace mantel and albums on the coffee table that was surrounded by furniture that was exactly what Chris pictured her to have: one couch and two matching chairs, both with floral prints in yellows and pinks. Mama came running back into the kitchen with a white box. Katrina handed him a wet paper towel and pulled out a chair motioning for him to sit down. Mama opened up the little box, after shuffling through the contents; she grabbed an antibacterial wipe and a band-aid. Chris patted his forehead with the paper towel. The bleeding was subsiding, but the throbbing was just starting. “Oh, it’s just a tiny little thing, but you know how the head over-exaggerates when it bleeds. Just hold that to your head for a bit.
“Talk about a way to break the ice.” Mama said.
“Or more like a way to break the railing.” Chris laughed.
“Good to see you’re not delusional.” Replied Mama smiling at him. She has Katrina’s eyes and smile Chris noticed.
“Okay dear, lets take a look.”
Chris took the paper towel off his forehead. And looked at Mama’s face for a response.
“Hmm, I think you should be just peachy!” Mama dug through the box again until she found a tube of Neosporin. She squeezed some of the contents out of the tube on to her finger and rubbed it lightly on to the cut. She peeled the backing off the Band-Aid and applied it to Chris’ forehead. “You should be good as new in about a day—other than the huge goose-egg you’ll have.”
Chris touched his forehead and regardless of being embarrassed to have a huge Band-Aid strapped across his forehead, he wasn’t about to argue with the old woman, so he thanked her. Like Katrina, he felt very comfortable with Mama and knew why Katrina chose to stay with her.