May nodded, then reached for a loose-bulging knitting bag, drew out a ball of yellow yarn and needles, sank into the glider her savior had vacated, and began to knit, the needles flying. For a moment, Amelia stood in the doorway watching her and remembered a spinster lady who had lived next door to her grandmother. Mostly she sat in a rocker on her porch knitting as if her very life depended on it, never lifting her head, even in response to nine-year-old Amelia’s cheery “Hello” as she roller-skated past the woman’s house.

“Knitting,” her grandmother had said. “Mrs. Paine has lots of worries, and knitting helps to relax her.”

Amelia watched May’s head bent in concentration over the needles. A wise lady, Mrs. Paine. Bless May. “I’m off now.” Softly, Amelia closed the door behind her.

A few days later, Hannah complained to Grace. “I can’t abide May living here.”

“Has she done something to offend you?”

Hannah brought her hand down hard on the kitchen counter. “No, she hasn’t. In fact, she’s quiet as a mouse. It’s not normal to be that quiet. What does she do when she’s here? I feel as if she’s studying us.” Hannah scratched the side of her cheek. “Notice how she acts around Amelia? May hangs on every word Amelia says, as if Amelia’s some kind of oracle.” She grunted and raised her eyebrows. “Some oracle.”

Grace clasped Hannah’s arm and guided her to a chair. “Now, you sit right down and let’s talk about this.” Grace brought them each a cup of freshly brewed tea. “A good hot cup of tea will help you calm down.” Two packets of Splenda were emptied into her cup and she stirred, the spoon tinkling against the porcelain. “May’s not going to be here long. You can’t let her upset you like this.”

“I hate myself for being upset,” Hannah muttered. “I should feel sorry for her and be more generous of spirit, like you are.”

“You are generous of spirit, Hannah. Never think otherwise. I’ve seen how you are with Sarina. Her own mother couldn’t be kinder or more caring of her.”

Hannah sighed and sipped her tea. “How could I not care, the poor little thing? She’s so far from home. Imagine what that must feel like.”

“Right now, May also has no home.”

Hannah said, “Of course, you’re right. May hasn’t a home either. What will she do with her life, anyway?”

“May has plans. She’s studying to be a nurse’s aide or assistant.”

Hannah wrinkled her nose. “A nurse assistant. Someone who empties bedpans?”