"Not yet.
Come back Saturday at eleven."
"Do you need me to clean after the movers?"
"No.
And leave your supplies at home."
I must have seemed confused because she added, "I’m asking you to visit, Carly."
On Saturday, I arrived in jeans without bleach spots and a blouse I usually saved for school events.
I brought cookies because arriving empty-handed felt strange.
Most of the furniture was gone, but she’d kept the kitchen table and two chairs.
There were sandwiches on real plates.
"Sit down," she said.
"I know you usually eat lunch in your car."
I hadn’t realized she knew that.
We talked about the move and Willa’s senior year.
When we finished eating, I stacked our plates without thinking.
Mrs.
Whitaker reached across the table and stopped me.
"Leave those.
There’s something I wanted to show you."
What did Mrs.
