Dorthy Izato

	Dorthy took in a deep breath. The room still smelled like her friend; a dash of espresso, Butler’s Keeper hair paste, and Jack Spratz Elbow Grease. All the lights had been left on, so at least she could see everything.	Gus was what they would call a neat freak, everything had a space in between it and any other object, for easy cleaning. He was a firm believer in “Everything has a place”, and that it should be visible, reachable, and well ordered. Well ordered meaning that if you disturbed it, it wouldn’t cause disorder to anything else.
	The vintage plaid brown sofa sat against the wall facing the television. The residential newsletter and menu sat on the coffee table, family photo albums stacked underneath. His walls almost looked like they were wallpapered in picture frames filled with family moments. ‘He was a good dad.’ Dorthy thought. Her eye glanced at the photo by his bedside, it was of his daughters family. ‘He was right about Missy, It would take his leaving this earth to get her to find her bearings. She will think she is going to fail. And for a time she may even give up, but she’s stronger than she thinks.’
	One of the pictures on the wall was a testament to that. It was the day Missy got her first two wheel bike. It was so much larger than she was, and at first she fell many times. She had to mount it from the curb because she wasn’t tall enough to do it otherwise. Of course it had no training wheels, so she had to learn balance among many other things. She would come in skinned up, holding back tears. Her mother would try to get her to stop, wait until she was older and could ride it. Nothing could make her stop. One day when she was trying to mount her bike, she had just lifted her other foot to reach the far petal so she could get on when a car zipped around the corner. The car tagged the heel of her sneakers. The damage was so severe she was in the hospital for several weeks. The doctors feared she might not even walk again. This picture on the wall is one of Missy riding her bicycle around the driveway in a circle. How proud he was of her resilience, determination, and spirit.
	Mrs. Izato sighed a deep sigh as she casually glanced over all the photos. There was not time to be sad or depressed, she only had the time she could muster up. She turned her eyes to the rest of the room. She’d been in here a million times, and not a single thing looked out of place. She glanced in the kitchenette, she reached over and put on his oven mitt and opened every drawer and cabinet. Nothing was out of place. The dishes were all put away, everything was tidy. She kept the oven mitt and walked to the bedroom.
	Nothing stood out in the bedroom, other than the tussled up bed space where the EMT’s took him out in the gurney. She put the mit on and examined the dressers, one for summer one for winter. Nothing was a-miss. The closet door was wide open, everything there was immaculate, just like it  was always. Shoes lined up against the wall, shirts and slacks hanging neatly.