Chapter 19: The Last Key

On the thirtieth day, the whole street turned out again.

It was noon, and the snow had gone gray and soft at the curbs.

A rented truck sat backed up to the front steps of 14 Linden Street, with its ramp down.

The couple across the road stood at their mailbox.

The man with the shovel had come out with no shovel, just to watch.

Esther and I waited on the sidewalk, and Brett and Kayla stood a step behind us.

Gary was not with us.

He was inside, carrying boxes, because Janet had asked him to and he had said yes.

"Why is he helping her?" Kayla muttered.

"Because it's the last thing she'll ask him for," I said.

The front door opened.

Janet came out in her camel coat with her hair done and her pearls on.

She carried nothing.

Two men from a moving company walked past her with a dresser, and she did not look at them.

She came down the steps one at a time and stopped on the front walk, six feet away.

For a moment I thought she would speak to the street.

She held up her hand, and the key to the house hung from her finger by a loop of ribbon.

"This is for you," she said. "I wanted all of you to see me give it. I wanted you to know that I did this for my sister's girl."

Nobody answered.

"I took her in. I gave her a roof. Someday she'll tell you otherwise, and I want you to remember that I handed her the key."

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