There are always so many questions. What are you up to tonight? Plans for the weekend? Booked a holiday yet?
I’ve no idea why other people are always so interested in my schedule.
I’d timed it all perfectly, and was maneuvering my shopper over the threshold
when I realized that someone had pulled the door back and was holding it open for me.
I turned around. “All right, Eleanor?” the man said, smiling patiently as I unraveled the string on my mittens from my sleeve.
Even though they were not required in the current temperate atmosphere, I keep them in situ, ready to don as the eventual change in season requires.
“Yes,” I said, and then, remembering my manners, I muttered, “Thank you, Raymond.”
“No bother,” he said. Annoyingly, we began walking down the path at the same time.
“Where are you headed?” he asked. I nodded vaguely in the direction of the hill.
“Me too,” he said. I bent down and pretended to refasten the Velcro on my shoe.
I took as long as I could, hoping that he would take the hint.
When eventually I stood up again, he was still there, arms dangling by his sides.
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