When I finished, I gathered my supplies and walked toward Mrs.
Whitaker.
Then I placed her house key in her hand.
She looked at it for a moment.
Instead of taking it, she gently folded my fingers back around the key.
“Not yet.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“Come back Saturday at eleven.”
I immediately assumed she needed help after the movers finished.
“Do you want me to clean once everything is out?”
“No.”
She paused.
“And don’t bring your cleaning supplies.”
I must have looked completely confused.
Mrs.
Whitaker smiled.
“I’m asking you to visit me, Carly.”
Visit.
Not work.
I couldn’t remember ever hearing her say that before.
So Saturday morning, I put on a pair of jeans that didn’t have bleach stains and a blouse I normally saved for Willa’s school events.
