**From Where the Light Is Brighter by C.C. Griffin and Thomas G. Fiffer**

Edith Sharp

I’m not where I’m supposed to be. Cold on my shoulders, fingers numb, I manage to pull the edges of my hat and scarf tight around my neck.

The empty driver's seat next to me… He was never one to sit still. “William?”

From outside the car, I hear his calm voice call, “I’m getting your wheeler.”

I only need it for the curbs. My ski pole was better than this clunky thing. I’ll have to tell him no getting rid of the old stuff with this “big cleanout” of his. And the house should be locked up—tight. The front door has to be pulled and the handle jiggled to lock it properly since the wood has warped. Time bends things. It can’t be avoided. Now, did I leave the outside lights on?

William opens the car door. “Mom…”

“Yes, dear?”

“It's time to head inside.”

I shiver, looking into my son’s gentle eyes. His hair is peppered. When did that happen? Rubbing my hands together, I can’t feel any warmth. “I think we should go back, check the locks and the lights.”

“Mom, it’s time.”

Time? It’s never time to come to this never place.

And there it is, up on the hill… I heard it was fancy. Hmmph. This is it? Poorly trimmed bushes trailing beneath the dirt-smudged windows, the drab building rising one floor after another, ice dams on the gutters, and the stone at the corner—it’s crumbling! And things get stolen here, that’s what she says. My friend… What’s her name? Come on, Edith, the one with the car. I can’t believe I’ve forgotten my neighbor, after all these years. It’ll come back to me. I just need to sit in my recliner. At home. That's where all my memories are, where everything makes sense.

But here I am… I pull my scarf tighter and squint at the fogged-up windows. Will one of them be…mine?

“William,” I say, then forget what I wanted to tell him. I pat down the soft wool of my coat to give the thoughts time to return, if they choose to return.

Oh, well. William’s car is warm and comfortable. I don’t mind staying put. Besides, he was the one who insisted we go out in the cold on a day like this. So, I indulged him. My handsome boy. At least it’s only temporary. A week, maybe two.

“Mom,” he says, unfolding the wheeler, “I’m not rushing you.” He blows on his hands, rubbing them. “It’s a big day. Moving is never easy.”

“Visiting,” I correct him. My beautiful boy. “Moving shouldn’t be allowed, particularly at this age.” Just leave me in my house. I’m fine there. “Now where are your hat and gloves?”

“No gloves needed back in sunny California.” He leans closer. “Mom, just think about it. Blue sky, sun on your face. No more of this awful cold. I keep telling you, we would love to have you live out there with us. Kate’s mom and you. We can find a way to get you both the extra TLC you need.”

California! Over my dead body. I fix my scarf. “I can’t leave your father. He’s here, in Poughkeepsie.”

“Mom! It’s been almost fifty years. I’m sure Dad would be happy to see you making life easier. I think it’s what he would have wanted.”

“Fifty years and it seems like yesterday. I visit him every week, you know. My friend drives me, in that little red car of hers. The flowers always need water, and his stone looks better with the holiday decorations. He always enjoyed a nice Christmas wreath.”

I close my eyes and let out a long breath. “He was my greatest love,” I smile at William, “until you, of course—my beautiful surprise. He used to say, ‘we’re never ready for change, but change is always ready for us.’ And he never steered me wrong. So…” I turn towards the half-open car door and put one foot on the frozen ground, “…would you be a dear and open the door a little wider and give me your hand? And for heaven’s sake button your coat. I don’t want you to catch cold.”