Clara smiled so broadly that she forgot to complain about the coffee.

An older man named Samuel came but would not sit down.

He said he’d only stopped by to see the renovations.

He walked around the room slowly, examining the photographs, until I noticed him looking at the chair Arthur used to sit in.

“You knew him?” I asked.

“From the hardware store.

He fixed a window latch for my mother once.

Wouldn’t take a cent.” Samuel cleared his throat.