I stood alone in the shop, looking at the number.
Then the bell rang.
June came in, leaning on her walking stick.
“Mary! I was hoping you’d be here.”
I came around the counter.
“June, I saw you on the camera.”
She looked puzzled.
“Camera?”
“Tuesday morning. You sat by the entrance to my shop.”
“Oh, that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She waved a hand.
“You had enough on your mind.”
“You stayed for nearly two hours.”
“I had a chair.”
I laughed despite myself.
“June.”
She looked at me.
“After my husband died, I didn’t want to go anywhere. Remember?”
I nodded.
“You kept asking whether I wanted my usual tea. Some days I came in just because I knew you’d ask.”
“I remember.”
“You let me sit here and talk, even when I didn’t buy a thing.”
“Of course I did.”
She tapped her walking stick against the floor.
“You were the first person who made me feel like I still belonged somewhere.”
I looked away.
June reached for a packet of biscuits.
Then she held up the packet.
“Are these still on special?”
I laughed again.
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll take two.”
After June left, I replayed the footage. The man in the faded jacket had stayed until I returned.
I picked up the phone number.
I could have left it in the drawer.
Instead, I called.
A man answered on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“My name is Mary. Your son came to see me.”
There was a pause.
“Thank you for calling.”
I looked at the footage.
“Would you come by after closing?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And please don’t bring your son. I’d rather speak with you alone.”
“Of course.”
I hung up.
For thirty years, I’d wondered about the people who drove past my broken-down car.
Now one of them was coming to my store.
And I wasn’t sure what I wanted him to say.
Thomas arrived after closing.
I recognized his jacket and cracked watch strap.
“Thirty years ago,” he began, “I saw you waving beside your car. I was behind schedule. I drove past.”
I gripped the counter.
“I turned around eventually,” he recalled. “You were gone.”
“Would stopping have saved Ben?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I wish I’d given you the chance to find out.”
He didn’t ask for forgiveness.
I told him Ben used to arrange my canned goods backward because he liked seeing the pictures.
Thomas listened.
Before leaving, he wrote a number on the back of a receipt.
“A few of us help stranded drivers around town. If somebody ever needs a hand, this is who to call.”
I took the receipt.
“I’m sorry, Mary,” he said.
“Thank you for watching my store.”
That was all I could offer.
The next morning, Diana returned with Tyler.
He looked tired but cheerful.
“Mom says you drove us,” he said.
“I did, dear.”
“Can I have a candy?”
Diana laughed.
“One.”
I didn’t mind.
Later that day, as I was closing, a customer hurried inside.
“My car won’t start. Do you know anyone?”
I remembered the roadside-assistance number Thomas had given me.
I called.
Someone promised to come.
“Should I wait outside?” the customer asked.
I turned the OPEN sign to CLOSED.
“There’s a chair by the window.”
He sat.
I switched off the display lights, leaving the counter lamp on.
Then I pulled another chair beside his.
Outside, a vehicle slowed near the curb.
The driver stopped and stepped out.
I stood to open the door.
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