I Cleaned Her House for Eight Years, Then Before Moving Away She Asked Me to Come Back Without My Cleaning Supplies

“Of course.”

“You’re crying,” she said.

I froze. I hadn’t made a sound. At least, I didn’t think I had.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s all right. It’s raining, too. I can hear it.” There was a short pause. “Ten o’clock tomorrow. 418 Linden. The blue door.”