"There's a card," I indicated. I pulled the card from its envelope and handed it to her. She strained for a moment to read the inscription. "It's hard for me to see," she said handing the card back.
"It says: To Mrs. Edna Smith, from The Pembertons."
"The Pembertons!" she said gleefully. "They're my neighbors."
"They must be very nice neighbors," I suggested. "Do they check in on you?"
"Oh, yes," she exclaimed, "sometimes. She does. He's always busy. He's very successful, you know!"
"They seem like a really nice family," I assured her. "Do their children ever come to visit?"
"The boys," she said. "They're away now. College."
"Well, I'm sure that they're nice kids."
"Oh, yes!" Mrs. Smith confirmed.
"No trouble at all."
"Oh, well," she thought for a moment. "They used to have fast cars. I think that one of the boys lost his license. Racing on the street, that sort of thing."
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I hope that the police didn't have to come."
"A couple of times," she recalled.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I hope that the police didn't have to come."
"A couple of times," she recalled.
"Mrs. Smith, I can ask my dispatcher to send a thank you note to the Pembertons on your behalf. Or will you be seeing Mrs. Pemberton soon?"
"Oh, that would be nice!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed. "I didn't see her today. Her car was gone this morning."
"That's okay, Mrs. Smith. We'll take care of everything for you."
"Thank you so much for the flowers," she repeated. "I'm so excited."
"You're welcome, Mrs. Smith," I said. "Is there anything else that you need? Do people check in on you from time to time?"
"Oh yes, from the church," she confirmed.
"And you're able to get to the church okay?" I wasn't sure why I was asking. My conscience seemed to be getting the better of me.
"Yes, Sundays and Wednesdays," she clarified. "The church is my family now, I suppose."
"That's wonderful, Mrs. Smith!" I felt a sense of relief that she was being looked after.
I remembered the dickheads waiting on the street. "Mrs. Smith, I'm parked out back. Could I go out that way?"
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