A soft knock came at the back door.
“Lilo? You still up?”
It was Marlene, the cafeteria lady who walked the same route home as me on Thursdays.
“Come in, honey,” I called. “Door’s open.”
She poked her head in, scarf wrapped tightly to her chin.
“You forgot your gloves in the supply closet. Again.”
“My head’s not where it used to be.”
“Your head is fine. It’s the rest of you that needs a rest.” She set the gloves on the table and frowned at the stack of bills. “Lilo. You can’t keep working doubles.”
“Barney would tell you to sit down.”
I smiled at that, a weak, true smile. “Barney would tell me to keep going. He always did.”
She squeezed my shoulder and left without another word.
I sat a moment longer with the photo, then reached for my coat. There was no bread in the house, and the corner store closed at nine. I tucked my last few crumpled dollars into my pocket and stepped out into the cold.
