I smiled.
“That’s why I asked them to stop instead of calling the police.”
She laughed.
So did I.
It was easier.
That became the pattern.
Marlene crossed a boundary.
I made a joke.
Everyone moved on.
Except apparently—
Marlene didn’t believe boundaries applied to her.
I ONCE FOUND HER INSIDE MY GARAGE
The door had been open because I was working in the backyard.
When I came back—
Marlene was standing beside my workbench holding my pruning shears.
I stopped.
“Looking for something?”
“These.”
She lifted them.
“Mine are dull.”
“You could have asked.”
She smiled.
“Would you have said no?”
Probably not.
But that wasn’t the point.
“I would’ve liked the chance.”
“I’ll return them.”
Three days later—
I had to ask for them.
Still, I let it go.
Again.
MARLENE DID IT TO EVERYONE
At a neighborhood barbecue, Susan asked her children to stop running through another flower bed.
Marlene apologized immediately.
One hour later—
they were drinking lemonade together.
“That’s what adults do,” I told George.
“You mention the problem.”
“You move on.”
George made a noise.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re terrible at nothing.”
He nodded toward Marlene.
She was standing beside the food table.
Holding something from my house.
A small handmade wooden picture frame.
My stomach tightened.
“Careful.”
Marlene looked surprised by my tone.
I took the frame from her.
“My husband made this.”
Her expression softened slightly.
“Your late husband?”
“Yes.”
The frame wasn’t impressive.
One corner was slightly higher.
There was a tiny groove where his tool had slipped.
That imperfection was precisely why I loved it.
Marlene examined it.
