It had to be You

house.
    As she approached, she noticed a handful of men in and around the barn removing tools and putting them in their trucks. The front door was open, and there was the sound of a mob of women talking somewhere. Lily stepped through into the main room just as Mrs. Connor came out of another where the voices were coming from.
    Boxes and bags were piled everywhere in the main room—on the big table with so many chairs, on sofas and side tables. Some had clothing in them; a few had toasters; others contained dishcloths, pots, meat pounders, sets of knives, or silverware.
    “I’m so sorry to interrupt you,“ Lily said and introduced herself. “And sorrier yet about your husband’s death and the rest of your troubles.“
    “I remember you, Miss Brewster. You and that Betty girl were so kind to me at the nursing home.“
    “Miss Twibell sent me to bring a book she just found in your husband’s room at the nursing home that someone had given him as a gift. She sends her deepest apologies for not finding it sooner.”
    She handed the book to Mrs. Connor. While the woman was looking at it, Lily furtively glanced around and spotted a heavy-looking typewriter at the far end of the room, and something else that almost took her breath away.
    “Why would someone have given my husband a book, Miss Brewster?“ Mrs. Connor asked. “He never read anything, not even a newspaper. I’ll give it to someone here. These people are the women in my own family.”
    She apparently had no sense of how much Lily was disliking chatting with her.
    “What are the boxes and bags for, if you don’t mind me asking?“ Lily inquired.
    “I’m moving out. A second cousin of mine is the president of a company and wants to buy my house for a great deal of money, and use it as a place to have meetings with his distributors. He has a lot more money than he deserves, and I don’t mind taking it. He doesn’t want anything but the big table and the chairs. I’m giving all the rest of the furnishings, except my personal belongings, to my relatives, including everything in the barn.”
    Then she added with a malicious glint in her eyes, “If my grandsons are getting the farm, they’re going to have to come up with the money to buy new equipment to farm it.”
    Remembering Howard’s admonition to be nice whatever Mrs. Connor said, even though Lily wanted to slap the woman for her nastiness, she said, “Where are you moving? Somewhere nice, I hope.“ Lily was sensing that this horrible woman enjoyed telling a younger woman all about herself, and all about how clever and how fortunate she was.
    “It’s a wonderful place. Another cousin of mine told me about a very exclusive boardinghouse near Poughkeepsie where a woman takes in widows of a good class. It has all the amenities. I visited it yesterday and looked at a suite that’s been vacated. A lovely parlor, a big bedroom, and my own bath.“
    “How nice for you,“ Lily said. “Is the food good? Is that why you’re giving away your kitchen things?“
    “Yes. I had a meal while I was there. It was excellent. I’m sorry you took the time to bring the book. It was nice of you, but I don’t want it. Maybe one of my cousins will.“
    “I see you have a typewriter. Are you giving that away, too?”
    “Yes.“
    “May I buy it instead? I’ve been longing to learn how to typewrite, but can’t afford a new one.”
    That made Mrs. Connor even more pleased. “What could you pay?“
    “Five dollars?“
    “Ten,“ Mrs. Connor countered.
    Lily took out her billfold, pulled out her money, and showed it to Mrs. Connor. “I only have eight and a half dollars. Could I bring you the other dollar and a half later?“ Five dollars of Lily’s money had come from Mrs. Prinney, who had given it to her to pick up things from the greengrocer and the butcher. The rest was her own. Mrs. Prinney would understand when she was told why the grocery money had disappeared.
    “I’ll just take the eight and a half now, and call it a deal. I don’t expect to be here much longer, I don’t want to have to wait for you to come back with the rest of the money. So it’s yours. You’re too frail to carry it though. I’ll have one of the men take it to your automobile.”
    This horrified Lily. The car she’d come in was a police car. She didn’t want any of these people knowing that.
    “Oh, no thank you. If you’re strong enough, could we manage to scoot it along to the front porch? My brother’s