The Widow's Demise
“He tucked in his shirt, hauled up his braces and went to answer it. There on his porch stood Constance Brown, his one-time fiancée. (They had been good friends even before the death of Macy’s wife.) She was short, slightly plump woman in her mid-thirties, with a mop of frizzled, ginger hair and blue eyes, and tonight she looked somewhat dishevelled.
“Well, aren’t you gonna ask me in?” she said, staring him down.
Macy recovered his aplomb enough to reply, “Of course. You are always welcome here....
She stepped inside, and Macy moved back to accommodate her.
“It’s just that you startled me, Constance. I wasn’t expecting anybody this time of night.”
“I’m sorry for the lateness of the hour, but there are some things I just have to get off my chest.”
“I hope this isn’t about the engagement.”
“It is. And I’d like to sit down – if you don’t mind.”
“But that’s all in the past,” Macy said, following Constance meekly into the living-room and watching her remove her coat and take a seat.MoreLess
“Well, aren’t you gonna ask me in?” she said, staring him down.
Macy recovered his aplomb enough to reply, “Of course. You are always welcome here....
She stepped inside, and Macy moved back to accommodate her.
“It’s just that you startled me, Constance. I wasn’t expecting anybody this time of night.”
“I’m sorry for the lateness of the hour, but there are some things I just have to get off my chest.”
“I hope this isn’t about the engagement.”
“It is. And I’d like to sit down – if you don’t mind.”
“But that’s all in the past,” Macy said, following Constance meekly into the living-room and watching her remove her coat and take a seat.MoreLess
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