I answered the phone yesterday evening and it was Florence.
ìWhat day is it? Saturday or Sundayî?

When I brought her milk and Windex this afternoon, she told me that she waited for the school bus last Friday. Not to hop aboard but to hand out Halloween candy to all the children. She laughed as she said she would have to do it again, this Friday.

The problem, her dead transistor radio, rested on the kitchen table with the batteries exposed. I imagine her listening to the all news station that loops through the traffic, weather, date and time, endlessly. Work and the Boston Globe orient me.

A month ago, I was visiting with my neighbor, Mary, not as old as Florence but the victim of the same cruel joke that nature plays on women. Departed husband. Mary wanted to show me her new boiler, except that when we got to the basement, the rickety thing was still there, rust at the seams, but with a new pump. When we returned to her kitchen and as I was about to say goodbye, she asked me, ìDo you want to see my new boiler?î

On my way home from Floís I stopped at Dollyís, Maryís next door neighbor. Dolly had called about her wobbly front porch railing and wanted it fixed before Halloween.

ìMatthew said he loved those orange drops.î
She spoke as if she had seen him last night.

I tried to express my concern about her friendís memory when she stopped me.

ìIím going to be a grandmother…or is it a great grandmother?î

ìWhoís having the baby?î

She thought for a moment, ìTory.î

Over the years I had heard many stories about Tory, her blonde grand daughter.

ìThat would make you a great grandmother.î

ìOhî

ìDolly, remind me, what is your daughterís name?î

ìItís…. Just a minute, I know it. Oh isnít this silly. Itís…letís see, Smitty…î

Smitty was her husband. He died when Matthew turned five, eleven years ago. I remember his funeral and how I slipped into the white church off Main St., after everyone was seated. I wasnít sure I should be there until Dolly smiled at me.

ìDebbie, thatís it, Debbie.î

Smitty, the illustrator, in plaid, with Dolly at his side. Tulum
watches Matt following me up the ladder.