“It’s getting late,” I said, reaching for the sleeve.

“Let me help you into that, Raymond,” Valerie said, sliding the wool over my shoulders with practiced grace.

She picked a stainless steel travel mug up off the foyer table and held it out to me by its black plastic handle.

“I poured some of that fresh decaf tea into a travel mug for your drive home,” she said with a warm smile.

“You don’t need to go to the trouble,” I said.