Someone arrived with pastries.
Another member carried a breakfast casserole.
And everywhere I looked were people telling Robert stories.
For the first time since his funeral, hearing his name didn’t make me want to leave the room.
Then Linda appeared.
She wanted everyone moved immediately.
I told her we’d move cars as people finished breakfast.
She became furious.
That’s when Arthur, one of the oldest members of the club, recognized her.
Arthur had known the neighborhood for decades and was familiar with the property boundaries.
He calmly reminded Linda that the driveway was mine.
She knew it too.
Linda eventually called the police.
