Chapter 24 - THE OLD KITCHEN
Michael and I sold the house when we were sixty-eight.
The kitchen had been remodeled years earlier.
No original tile.
No old pantry door.
No mark from the broken mop.
Still, I knew where everything had been.
The buyer was a young family.
Their son opened the pantry during the showing.
“Snacks!”
His father said:
“After lunch.”
Normal rule.
I smiled.
Before closing, Michael asked:
“Do you want one last walk through?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
We signed.
May you like
Left.
The house became property again.
