Her neighborhood changed. The truck’s pattern didn’t. Same music, menu.
Friday was her ice cream day. Chocolate, with sprinkles.
She struggled to get around by herself now, so her granddaughter and grandson-in-law were moving her in with them. In Colorado. Saturday.
“The nationwide ban on fossil-fuel vehicles starts tomorrow, so the company’s stopping street sales. Today’s my last run, Ms. Betsy.”
“Mine too.”
He gave her the cone. She gave him a twenty.
“Keep the change.”