Robert’s car-club directory was still there.
I found the number for George, the club president.
He answered on the fourth ring.
“Carol?”
“Hi, George.”
“Well, this is a surprise.”
“I have a strange question.”
“Those are usually the best kind.”
I looked out the window at my empty driveway.
“Is the offer to host everyone again still open?”
There was a pause.
Then, he asked, “Are you serious?”
“I think so.”
“You tell me when.”
“Monday.”
Another pause.
“Monday morning?”
“Seven.”
George laughed.
“Robert would’ve liked whatever you’re planning.”
“You don’t even know what I’m planning.”
“I knew your husband for 27 years. I’m willing to take the gamble.”
I explained that I wanted breakfast in the backyard.
Nothing fancy.
Coffee, pastries, eggs, whatever people wanted to bring.
Then I added, “And George?”
“Yeah?”
“Bring everybody.”
He did.
The following Monday, Linda parked in my driveway at 6:45 a.m.
I watched from my kitchen window.
I couldn’t believe my luck.
She pulled in, got out, and walked back toward her house.
Apparently, her own driveway was going to be used by a landscaping crew that morning.
She didn’t knock.
Didn’t ask.
