My daughter-in-law laughed as she gave me a $2 scratch-off for my 73rd birthday. Ten months later, my own son shoved a senior living brochure in front of me and said, “We already picked your room.” They thought I was too old to fight back. They had no idea what I had been hiding.

After Richard left, I carried my suitcase outside.

My best friend, Helen Mercer, was waiting by the curb in her little red car.

Helen had been a widow longer than I had, and she understood the difference between being alone and being left in peace.

She stepped out when she saw me.

“Ready?”

“I think so.”

Colin followed me onto the porch.

“You’re leaving right now?”