At my last physical, Dr. Boney said I need a change. I'm not sick. Don't get me wrong, I got a clean bill of health. But Dr. Boney said all the lifting and reaching I do operating the long-arm quilt machine is too hard on my right shoulder joint. He says if I don't slow down I'm going to have to have a shoulder replacement. I've been careful with my money and your uncle Hank left me a little nest egg when he passed on, and it's done well in the market, so I began to think I don't really need to work, and, frankly, you do. I know you don't need the money, but, honey, you need to join the land of the living again, and I can't think of a better place for you to start over than Foggy Point.

Enclosed you will find the deed to my house, now your house. In addition, I've transferred the business into your name. Don't worry about what will happen when I get back. I'm not going to force myself on you as a tenant. I've purchased old Mrs. Morris's cottage out on the Strait. It's comfortable, and her daughter had the inside redone after Mrs. Morris passed last winter, so I'm sure it will be just the thing for me.

I hope you will not be angry with me and in time will come to see that this is for the best.

With all my love,

It was signed “Aunt Beth."

Harriet crumpled the paper and threw it across the kitchen. Then she checked the documents. Sure enough, there was her name on both deed and the doing-business-as form: Harriet Truman.

"What have you done?” she said aloud. “Fred? What has she done? Did you know about this? Can you even give somebody a house without them knowing about it?"

Fred jumped onto the table and gave her a head butt.

"When I'm done with my customers, I'm going to call Aunt Beth's attorney and see if this is for real, so don't you get too comfortable yet. Besides,” she said and raked her fingers through Fred's fuzzy hair. “If she can give it, I can give it right back. Just you watch."