She turns into the long driveway and parks behind James’ pick-up truck. Her car isn’t something new and shiny, but it gets her where she needs to go and it didn’t cost her a thing. It was James’ mom’s car and he could never bring himself to sell it after her passing. She shuts the car door and heads up the porch. Patches is barking and whining behind the door. He lunges at her as she swings the door open. “Okay, okay, Patches. I’m home,” she says as she scratches the pooch behind his ears. “I’m happy to see you too, boy.” “Patches, let her get inside before you pounce on her,” James chuckles from the kitchen. “I hope you like spaghetti. It’s all I know how to cook aside from grilling up a mean steak or two,” he smiles at her. “I love spaghetti,” she says as she places her coat and purse on the rack near the door. “Do I have time to head upstairs to change before supper?” “You sure do ma’am. It will be ready in about ten minutes,”
