"Oh, that sounds like a very good solution."

Smile. "I would need to check with your social worker before I can leave you there by yourself - though I shouldn't think there'll be a problem, she used to run a little after-school reading program at the primary school so she must be police-checked, which is what Social Service would need to know. We could walk over now and say hi if you want, though?" Pause. "- Or we could bake her something first, if that sounds fun? I always try to bring her something when I visit." 

"I don't know very much about how to bake but that sounds nice!"

"I can show you what to do! Why don't we do date squares, I know Dolores - that's her first name - loves those. Maybe you can help bring me things from the cupboard, since you're so good at reading labels, and do some of the mixing? And we need to cook the dates and sugar on the stove and stir the whole time, I trust you to do that if you feel comfortable with it?" 

"I think I can do that. Though possibly not if I will have to climb on anything taller than a chair to get ingredients."

"You won't! Most of the ingredients I need are in the bottom cupboard, I'll get the ones that are up high. And I'll go bring the stepstool up from the basement, it's safer for standing on than a chair." 

The date square recipe - Evelyn has it typed up and printed out in a binder of favorite recipes, most of which she's modified over the years - wants pastry flour and rolled oats and brown sugar for the crust, all of which are on one of the lowest two shelves of the pantry cabinets beside the fridge and reachable by Annie without needing the stepstool. It also wants butter, which is in the fridge door, and salt and baking soda, which are in the upper cabinet beside the stove, and which Evelyn gets out. She does the measuring herself - the labels on the plastic measuring cups are long worn away - and then sets Annie up on the stepstool with a big mixing spoon and tells her to blend the dry ingredients together with the softened butter in a big mixing bowl until it's crumbly with no lumps - or until Evelyn tells her it looks good, since it might be hard to gauge the remaining lumpiness just by feel. 

Annie fetches ingredients and when they are all fetched she can stand on the stepstool and stir.

After it's stirred, they can butter a pan and then scoop half of the crumb mix into it and press it down evenly to make a base crust. Evelyn leaves Annie at this task - it seems pretty doable by feel - while she digs out the bag of pitted dates (it's from the bulk section of Whole Foods and not labeled) and starts a saucepan simmering with water and sugar. Once it's hot she adds the dates, flicks the oven on to preheat so it'll be ready for them once the filling is poured, and helps Annie relocate the stepstool over to the stove, where she can in front of the saucepan with a heatproof silicone spatula and stir it to keep the mix from burning. Evelyn supervises her closely, of course, but it's good for kids to participate. 

Honestly it kind of seems like she could have made these herself if she'd been able to fetch the stepstool on her own.

She's very helpful! It's not safe for her to be using the stove by herself at her age, but Evelyn is happy to keep the stepstool in the kitchen and they can learn more recipes together. 

Evelyn does the actual pouring of the filling onto the base - the saucepan is heavy for Annie as well as hot - and then they can both scoop up handfuls of crust mix and sprinkle it around on top, by which time the oven is ready. It'll want to bake for 25 minutes and cool for another half-hour or so, and then they can cut it up into squares and put half in a tin to bring over for Miss Enderbridge. In the meantime, more reading? 

Sounds good to her.

Evelyn sets the built-in oven timer without thinking, and then remembers that the alarm tone it places is a tune and hurriedly cancels it, and sets the built-in microwave timer instead because 'a single long beep' really shouldn't count as music. 

She'll join Annie for some friendly co-reading while she waits for the timer, and again after the timer goes and she takes the pan out to cool. She's certainly catching up on her reading list at an unprecedented rate, though there are enough books on her 'to read maybe someday' list that she's not worried about running out anytime very soon. 

Once the date slab is sliced into date squares and transferred half to a Tupperware for their house and half to a nice tin from Evelyn's stash (she keeps the tins for fancy chocolate or biscuit assortments, which are a pretty common gift concept), they can don shoes (and more clothes, for Annie) and walk over, if Annie is up for that. 

She is!

It's a nice day outside, sunny but breezy and not too hot. Evelyn swings her handbag over her shoulder and holds the still-slightly-warm tin of date squares in one arm while gripping Annie's hand with the other; it's not a long walk, but there's a lot of uneven sidewalk that presents a tripping hazard. 

...She manages to bite her tongue before she starts cheerfully humming but it's a close thing. Maybe she will chatter about the neighborhood just to keep her mouth busy. 

Annie has no strong opinion on this behavior. She kind of objects to the handholding, it's already hot enough, but doesn't struggle.

If she objects out loud then Evelyn will let her walk without handholding and go even more slowly, and potentially resume handholding if she does in fact trip. 

Nah, she does in fact trip a lot and it's a reasonable precaution. Look, there she goes, saved by Evelyn's momming.

Then they'll reach Miss Enderbridge's house without incident. 

It's one half of a semi-detached unit, with a smaller footprint than Evelyn's house and no garage. It's not as well maintained as her place - the siding is dingy and sunbleached, the roof missing shingles, not that this will presumably be apparent to Annie. The small porch is immaculate, though, with a rocking chair tucked under the overhanging roof. There are planters of flowers on either side of the narrow cobbled walkway up to her door. 

Evelyn leads Annie up the walkway and the steps of the porch - lots of tripping hazards here, the cobbles are uneven and one of the porch steps is at a slant - and knocks using the old-fashioned brass knocker. Dolores does not believe in doorbells and never had hers connected. 

"Coming!" a creaky voice calls, muffled through the door, and there are brisk footsteps in the hall. Thirty seconds later, a woman opens the door. 

Miss Dolores Enderbridge - not that this will be apparent to Annie - is slender and straight-backed with perfect posture, not at all stooped with age despite her deeply wrinkled face and snow-white puff of hair. She's wearing glasses on a chain, a high-necked long-sleeved silk blouse, and a calf-length dark skirt. 

"Evelyn! Lovely of you to visit! And you've got a new little girl with you, I see? Please do come in." 

Evelyn smiles at her, helping Annie step over the slightly raised lip of the doorway. "We come bearing gifts! Well, date squares, but they're fresh this morning. And this is Annie. She's - actually, I'm going to let Annie introduce herself." 

"You just told her my name was Annie, what did you have in mind for me to do myself?"

"- I mean, you don't have to, but I'm sure Miss Enderbridge would like to hear a bit about you and what sorts of things you enjoy." 

"I like to read. I am mostly blind but I can read. Also I experience agonizing pain whenever I am near music so I'm not very good to have along on errands and Evelyn needs to be able to leave me places sometimes."

"Oh dear! That sounds even more inconvenient than rheumatism. You needn't worry, I don't have music around here. Never much liked it." A slightly conspiratorial smile. "It's a distraction from reading books, is all it is. Did Evelyn tell you how many books I own?" 

Evelyn chuckles. "'Lots', I said. I don't have a copy of the Miss Enderbridge Catalogue."