When I pull up to my house after work, my friend Eppie is standing in the middle of our shared driveway, clutching her green canvas shopping bag. Her face shows relief and then worry as I get out of my car. “I hate to bother you,” she says, “but would you mind taking me home?”
“You are home, Eppie,” I say, putting my arm around her. “We’ve lived here side by side in our duplex for more than twenty years.” I turn her toward the house so she can see her little dog, Bramble, watching us from the window.
