Tiffany was out for her morning run, with MJ bouncing happily in her carrier in front. Pat was at work at the grocery store. It was a spontaneous whim that made her turn down the street, yet somehow it felt like the hand of fate. She slowed to a jog and then a brisk walk, partly because of the distance and partly because MJ had already grown quite a bit. The streets became narrower, the sidewalks cracked and buckled, and the houses small and run-down. It occurred to her that if certain people knew about her being here with MJ, they might make a child endangerment complaint. She would not have gone anywhere near this neighborhood after dark, and even in daylight she was more than a little nervous, especially with MJ along. Yet, it was MJ that gave her the confidence to keep going. After all, Danny always said that even the hard-core gangsters would never mess with a kid, and they would go hard core on any thug who did.

Finally, she came to the address. It was in a tucked-away stretch where the houses were old but generally well-maintained. This house, however, had filthy windows and a massively overgrown lawn. Several days of newspapers lay on the porch, and a mailbox was badly overstuffed. Tiffany stood at the end of the walk. She felt a headache coming.

Tiffany forced herself forward, straight into a jog. She covered the distance in a few skipping strides and stopped. The headache was on. She was sure she saw a hint of motion in a curtain behind the shuttered windows. After several minutes, she took the last few steps, and after another pause, rang the doorbell.

It was some time before a door cracked open. An old woman's quavering voice said, "What do you want?"

Tiffany struggled to speak, and the door started to close before she said, "A friend of Tommy Wheeler sent me!" There was more silence. "Look, I don't know what this place is, I don't know who you are, I don't know why I'm here, I don't even know who wanted me to come! But someone wanted me here, so please don't shut that door!"

"I only know of one Tommy Wheeler," the old woman answered. "I met him once. He stopped to help me when my car broke down. He called a tow truck, and stayed with me to talk. Then a BMW broke him in half."

"Oh god…" Suddenly, the migraine was gone. "What did he talk about?"

"He said he was in the neighborhood, because he went to the mall to buy an anniversary gift for his wife. He was getting out his wallet to show me a picture, when..." After a pause, the old woman said, "Who are you?"

Tiffany wanted to pour out everything. A vision played before her of going inside, and spending all day telling this stranger about Tommy, and holding each other while they cried. In any movie, that would be the perfect happy ending- but then, life wasn't a movie.

"It doesn't matter," Tiffany said. "All that matters is that someone sent me here to give you a message. I think the message is, that Tommy was a wonderful, caring man. He always wanted to help people, and if he had known he would die helping you, he wouldn't have changed a thing. And he wouldn't want you to be sad, or angry, or hide from anything that's good just because of what happened to him."

"Go," the old woman said. Tiffany nodded and turned away. As she stepped down from the porch, she heard the words that were barely a whisper, "Thank you."

Then the door shut.

This is what I envisioned as the end of Tiffany's story, and it's the kind of ending I like. Which should leave you readers/ innocent bystanders wondering, do I like leaving loose ends enough not to answer the BIG question?