I Brought Groceries to My Elderly Neighbor Every Sunday for Twelve Years. After His Funeral, His Lawyer Handed Me a Suitcase I Never Expected.
Months passed.
Richard did not answer.
I accepted the silence because by then I understood that relationships couldn’t be hurried by somebody else’s timetable.
One Sunday in late autumn, a visitor arrived fifteen minutes before closing.
He wore an ordinary wool coat and carried a small paper bag.
I recognized him at once.
“I wasn’t sure I should come,” Richard said.
“You can stay as long as you like.”