RJ was downstairs in the basement doing whatever and I was working at the Inn in the kitchen when I heard my name called. I hollered out, “Just a minute,” finished wiping my hands, and started downstairs into the basement.  “What do you want,” I called out. No answer.

As I turned the corner around the washers, I spotted RJ rummaging through the shelves where all his jars of screws, nails, and other absolutely needed items are stored.  “What do you want,” I asked again.

He looked up briefly to say, “I didn’t call you.”

“I heard you call my name.”

“Well, it wasn’t me.” he insisted.

“Hmph,” I said. “I could have sworn that I heard you call my name.”

RJ did not reply to my statement, so I went upstairs to continue my work in the kitchen. Where the kitchen is located in the house and where RJ was working downstairs, it made perfect sense that sound could travel up to me. I mean it is an historic house. There are plenty of nooks and crannies. I’m sure his voice could carry if he called me. In fact, there have been times when he has call up to me from the basement and I’ve heard him, so what happened this time.

Maybe I’m just losing my mind and I don’t know it.