She smiled again, her eyes almost squinting as her cheeks lifted high on her face.  Without another word, she shuffled off of the door step and disappeared down the block.  Blake slowly closed the door, started to walk away, but then backtracked in after thought and locked it.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"So, crazy cat lady?  Check."</span>He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.<span style="color: #FF8000">"You alright, Cass?  Did she say something to you?"</span>She looked uncomfortable.  He'd seen that look before, and he knew when his wife was not content with something.  It was like that time he tried to convince her they should get a pet tortoise and train it to be an automan.  He approached her quizzically, feeling her forehead.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"Maybe you should lay down, love,"</span>Blake said after brushing her hair back and kissing her on the top of her head.<span style="color: #FF8000">"You haven't given yourself a break all week."</span><br/><br/>Truth be told, he was a little puzzled by the woman's words himself.  She must have had some form of dementia, because he couldn't sort out what she meant about who was watching whom.  In fact, he found himself more concerned about her health.  Shouldn't she be in a home?  She clearly wasn't all<span style="font-style: italic">there</span>.  And did she call herself Mama Gina?  He could almost feel a headache of his own trying to form.  He might have decided to rest himself, but someone had to be here for the next group of movers to arrive.