People think love announces itself.

In that house it came taped inside a cabinet, in a firm slanted hand, disguised as a list of things not to do, and it took me months to learn to read it, and once I could, I never met a warmer document in my life.

I moved my two boxes and one suitcase in on a Sunday.

Enid watched from the hall, arms folded, supervising, and when I carried the last box up she said, “You’ll want to know the third stair from the top creaks.

If you come in late I’ll hear it, so don’t bother sneaking.” It was not friendly.