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the meat department at the back of the store. “Fred!” Tillie hollered.
    A thick-waisted man in a bloody apron paused with his knife poised over a slab of beef. “Ah, Mrs. Monroe! You’re back with us!” When he smiled, his great jowls quivered and his mustache curled over his front teeth. “I knew that place couldn’t hold you. I told everyone, I said, ‘That Tillie Monroe, she doesn’t belong in the old folks home.’ ” He waved his butcher knife in the air for emphasis.
    “You were right, Fred. I was a fish out of water there. I couldn’t breathe.”
    Fred nodded knowingly. “Some people, okay, they go to the old folks home and they make their peace with it, and maybe they’re even happy there, but not you. No sir. Not Tillie Monroe. I told everyone, I said, ‘That Mrs. Monroe, she’ll never be old. Never.’ ”
    “I’m glad you see it that way, Fred. If only my sons did.”
    “That Johnny!” The butcher knife sliced the air in one quick motion. “I said to him, ‘Johnny, how could you do that to your own mother?’ ”
    “Good question, Fred.”
    “He said he had only your best interest at heart.”
    “So he pulled that one on you too, huh?”
    Fred slammed the butcher knife into the beef and came to meet us at the counter. He was shaking his head. “I don’t know, Mrs. Monroe, but if I had a nice lady like you for a mother, I sure wouldn’t stick her in some old folks home.”
    “Thank you, Fred. If Johnny tries to do it again, I’ll disown him and adopt you.”
    Fred smiled, looking genuinely pleased. “And how’s the hip, Mrs. Monroe?”
    “Good as new,” she said. “It only aches when it’s going to rain. I’ve got a built-in barometer now, which comes in rather handy.”
    The butcher responded with a belly laugh. “You were always one to find the silver lining! If only we were all so inclined. Most of my customers, they come in here moaning and complaining, not a good word about anything. Well, you know how it is, Mrs. Monroe.”
    “That I do. I never put much stock in complaining.” She nodded toward the industrial-sized butcher block. “I see you’ve hired an apprentice.”
    Fred looked over his shoulder, then back at Tillie. “He’s a good boy, a good hard worker.”
    “I’m glad to hear that, Fred. These two girls here are his sisters.”
    I heard Tillie introduce me, but I was busy staring at Wally. He wore a large bibbed apron that was colored with blood, streaks of dark red splattered across a white canvas. I wrinkled my nose at the sight of it. Wally saw me and held up both hands so I could see his palms; they glistened with the same sticky redness. He smiled. I frowned.
    “Wally,” Tillie hollered, “come on over here and wrap up five of your best pork chops for me. We’ll have those for supper tonight.”
    Wally sauntered over, wiping his hands on the apron. He didn’t speak, but he picked out five pork chops from the refrigerated display case and wrapped them in sheets of white paper. He handed them to Fred, who handed them to Tillie.
    As she took the chops, Tillie said, “You know, Wally, you could at least say hello to us, instead of pretending you don’t know us.”
    Wally shrugged as he moved back to the butcher block. I knew how he felt about Tillie.
    Fred glanced at Wally, then turned back to Tillie with that look that said, Kids. What can you do with them? “So listen, while I got him here under my thumb, we’ll work on the manners, all right? He’s a good kid, just a little rough around the edges. Now, tell you what, Mrs. Monroe, you accept the chops as a gift, a housewarming gift from everyone at Jewel to you.”
    “Well, thank you, Fred. That’s very kind of you.”
    “Now that you’re back in your house, you need to celebrate, right?”
    “Come to think of it, I believe you’re right. If I were a drinking gal, I’d buy some champagne.”
    “If you buy some champagne, I can promise you, plenty of people will come and celebrate with