“Goodness gracious!” she exclaimed wide-eyed, as I opened her car door and leaned my full weight against it. “Sorry to be so late!” She reached beside her on the passenger seat and handed me a folder. I quickly tucked it securely inside my jacket as I extended her a helping hand and shouted back at her, “I’m just happy you’re all right.”
“I’m fine, but my beautiful old ironwood tree bit the dust and blocked my driveway,” she yelled back, her coat billowing out behind her like a wind sock. “I had to wait for my neighbors to push it out of the way.”
Hunched over, she clung to my arm as we fought our way to the library steps and I couldn’t help but think how much younger and more vibrant Thena appeared when compared to Clara, who couldn’t be more than a few years her senior. Maybe the
