When we first moved in, I barely noticed Mrs. Givens across the street. My husband, Cal, waved once or twice, then said something like, “She’s just a lonely old widow, probably bored out of her mind.” I didn’t think much of it.
But lately, she’s been waving at me more. Sometimes even walking across to hand me baked goods or flowers from her garden. It felt sweet—harmless, even. Until last Thursday.
