Grace took my right wrist in her warm hand and held on tight.

“Don’t you walk with your head down, Claire,” Grace said.

“Half the town thinks I’m losing the house,” I said.

“Frank buys folks coffee and tells them stories,” Grace said.

“We know who you are.”

“Evelyn says that recording will hold us up for a month,” I said.

“A month isn’t forever,” Grace said, squeezing my wrist before she let go.

Two members of the county zoning board went by us on their way to the corner diner.