“Lottie and Dottie were the two women who came to clean my house and do my laundry every Tuesday and Thursday. I called them the Speed Queens because, rather than hourly payment, we had settled on a flat weekly rate, which gave them license to go through the house like a pair of cyclones. They usually arrived at nine, by which time I was normally at the office. That was why I’d given them a key.The widow lady next door was out picking oranges when Veronica and I came out and walked to the Porsch...e. The widow lady, whose name was Mrs. Martindale, was forty-seven years old, ten years younger than Veronica. Her husband had died of a heart attack at the age of fifty. She told me that this was because he’d refused to drink the orange juice she squeezed fresh each morning from the oranges she picked in her own modest citrus grove of two trees. She was constantly inviting me in for fresh-squeezed orange juice. I was constantly finding excuses. She looked at us now, doubtlessly reflecting on the early morning hour, reflecting as well on the white nylon cocktail sheath and high-heeled slippers Veronica was wearing.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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