Her husband worked at a manufacturing plant.
They had their own financial difficulties.
When I explained what happened, she became quiet.
“Mama, I’m so sorry.”
Then she said the words I had been afraid to hear.
“We can’t have you move in right now.”
I understood.
Their house was crowded.
Money was tight.
And they were doing their best.
But understanding didn’t make the situation less frightening.
For several days, I searched for other cleaning jobs.
Most families already employed professional services.
Some businesses weren’t interested in hiring someone my age.
I began wondering how much longer I could afford my little house.
Then my telephone rang.
A woman introduced herself as Rosella from the county register of deeds.
“Is this Elnora Ruthanne Whitsett?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I need you to come to the courthouse.”
My stomach tightened.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, honey. Just bring your identification.”
