Inside was a check covering the first repair estimate for my car.
“I’ll cover whatever insurance doesn’t,” she said.
I studied her face.
“Why?”
“Because I owe you.”
I nodded.
“Yes, you do.”
She winced slightly but didn’t argue.
Before leaving, she stopped on the front steps.
“For whatever it’s worth… I’m sorry.”
I believed her.
That didn’t erase what she had done.
It didn’t suddenly make us friends.
But it was probably the first completely honest thing she had said to me in almost a year.
Since then, her dog hasn’t stepped into my yard once.
My trash cans stay upright.
Nothing disappears from my porch.
Both of us now have security cameras.
Sometimes I see Denise outside while I’m working in my flower beds.
We don’t wave anymore.
We don’t smile.
We simply leave each other alone.
After everything that happened, I consider that
