She listened. Then she helped me make a plan. The house on Carver Street stayed mine. That was never in question. I paid for a full renovation of the back porch. New lumber, new railing, Roland’s original design reconstructed from an old photograph. I put a new roof on Dorothy’s house, which she protested vigorously for approximately one afternoon before accepting.
I established a scholarship fund at the Columbus Public School, where I had once volunteered as a reading tutor in Roland’s name, annually renewed, for students who needed it. I made a significant donation to Grace Methodists legal advocacy fund which helped elderly and lowincome people navigate exactly the kind of situation I had just survived.
I had seen the files of people who had not had a James Whitmore or a Ununis Garfield. I thought about what had happened to them. I booked two first class seats to Dublin for September. When I called Dorothy to tell her, she cried, which was the only time I had ever heard Dorothy Haynes cry. As for Derek, Garland had sent a letter suggesting a possible civil suit.