When I gave her the number, she wrote it down for the manager.

“I am sorry this happened on your birthday,” she said.

It was the first time that day anyone had remembered which day it had been.

I nearly cried in front of the luggage rack.

Instead, I thanked her and went to my car.

On the way home, I stopped at Greg’s store.

It was Saturday afternoon.

A handwritten sign advertised clearance prices on garden hoses, although most of the hooks behind it were empty.