Work Text:
He made his way to the given address and was greeted by an older woman. "Mr. Dolby? I
appreciate your arriving so quickly." She walked down the hallway. "I believe you'll find all
you need right here. The man we hired to do the restorations had to pull out."
"I'm sure I'll be able to find my way around, Mrs.--"
"Roberts."
Dolby looked at her. "Betty Roberts?"
"I kept my maiden name when I married. I don't know if it was out of independence
or the fact that I had become known by that name in the radio community." She ran
her hands along the dusty boxes on the shelves. "It might sound strange, but everything
here holds a special memory for me."
"It's no wonder you want them cleaned and preserved. You want to have
something physical and concrete to mark what you did with your life."
She smiled and the years fell from her. "Somehow I knew you would
understand and not dismiss it as an old woman's fancy."
"I'll try to do them justice, Mrs. Roberts," he said reverently opening a box labeled Hands of Time.
"Since you'll be here a few days, call me Betty."
"Jarod." He smiled and turned to begin his work.