She continued to shuffle about in her floral aprons and silver hair piled into tidy buns. Whenever neighbors saw her, she smiled, waved, and chuckled about her arthritic aches. From afar, the boys watched her warily and perhaps felt a little ashamed, even. But Grandma never let on about her pain or disappointment.
The shame wore off soon enough, though. They grew bolder, playing ball along the block, running across properties, and sitting on the fences without permission. “What’ll she do?” one sneered. “She’s too old to fight back.” They laughed, emboldened by assumed weakness.