Mrs. Whitaker smiled and told me she was excited to move closer to her daughter, but she worried about losing the familiar connections she had built over the years. Then she asked if I would call her sometimes after she moved. I laughed and confessed that I had cleared space in my car because I thought she was going to give me her old belongings. Instead, she was offering me something I had never expected: a friendship without any professional obligation.

“Of course I’ll call,” I said. “Because I want to.” Before leaving, I returned her house key and wrote my personal number on a piece of paper. I handed it to her with a smile. “This is the number you call when you don’t need your house cleaned.” She laughed, and we hugged goodbye. For eight years, I had entered her home as an employee. Now, as she prepared to leave, we were finally free to become friends.