At the end of it, he nodded and said, “Well. That’s weird as heck. But she likes you. That’s not nothing.”
I shrugged like I didn’t care, but I thought about that all day. I had no idea what having family was like, but I imagined it was a little something like the relationship I had with Mrs. Rhode.
Joe noticed me bolting out after shifts.
Then came the morning I found her.
I’d been taking care of her for a little over a year. I let myself in with the spare key because she hadn’t answered the door. The TV was on. Tea sat cold beside her chair.
And she was sitting there, unmoving.
I knew… I felt it in my chest, but I called her name anyway. I touched her hand and pulled back quickly because her skin was so cold.
I called the local hospital, then I dropped to my knees beside her chair and cried harder than I had cried in years.
I knew… I felt it in my chest.
The funeral passed like a bad dream. I stood in the back and felt like I had no right to grieve as much as I did.
The next morning, someone pounded on my door.
I got up feeling half dead and opened it.
Mrs. Rhode’s lawyer stood there holding a dented metal lunchbox.
I had no right to grieve as much as I did.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“Mrs. Rhode left additional instructions. For you alone.” He held out the box. “Actually, she left you one thing.”
I took it because I did not know what else to do. Inside was an envelope with my name written on it in her shaky handwriting and a plain metal key.
My hands started shaking before I even opened the letter.
