Grace had been staying with us because a pipe burst in her apartment.
Ten days.
That was the estimate.
Grace had been staying with us because a pipe burst in her apartment.
On day one, I’d been sympathetic.
By day two, I was checking the calendar.
Grace didn’t knock.
The first time she walked into our bedroom, I was changing clothes.
“Oh!”
She didn’t leave.
Grace didn’t knock.
She walked to Harold’s nightstand.
“I need a charger.”
“Grace, I’m changing.”
“I’ve seen underwear before.”
“Mine?”
That finally got her to turn around.
“Grace, I’m changing.”
Another afternoon, she opened Harold’s desk drawers looking for stamps.
I found her holding a stack of old receipts.
“The stamps aren’t in there,” I said.
“Well, where does he keep them?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, where does he keep them?”
She gave me a look suggesting my marriage might not survive such ignorance.
