week. That was a lot of money to lose.
But it wasn’t about the money. I knew it wasn’t.
I just didn’t know what it was about.
The last Thursday was the Thursday before Thanksgiving.
The movers had come on Monday. Most of the furniture was gone. The piano was gone, shipped to Susan’s house. The long dining room table was gone. The beds were gone. The rugs were
rolled up and gone.
I walked into that house at nine o’clock, and my footsteps echoed.
I cleaned it anyway. There wasn’t much left to clean. Mostly I wiped down the empty rooms and
swept the bare floors. But I did every room. Every bathroom. I cleaned the claw-foot tub, even though nobody would use it for a while. I cleaned the checkered kitchen floor on my hands and knees, the way I had four hundred times before.
