The History of Bad Break Ups: Page one, Chapter one.

“They loved each other too much.”

Cometh the Hour Cometh the Woman: Part 14

[***][***][***]

Did you know that in the great state of Kentucky you can’t buy a handgun until you are 21? Well, I didn’t until it was explained to me, I COULD buy a shotgun at age 18, but I needed to be a resident of the state for that, and I didn’t have any permits, anyway. It just sort of pissed me off to be denied this one last dignity.

I remembered reading in my psych class that women committed suicide by drowning, pills, or slitting their wrists. The underlying psychology being they didn’t want do so something that would harm their beauty. They wanted to leave a good looking corpse and all that. Men, however, when they decided to punch their own ticket, generally decided to jump off a tall buildings or blow their brains out.

I wanted to go out like a man.

The hill clans had been having a little war the last generation or three. It used to be over moonshine, now modernized by relating to the trade in drugs like Oxycontin. I thought about walking up to random hillbillies and asking to buy a gun. Eventually, they would either take me up on it or take me up to the hills with the promise of it, then rape and kill me. Either way, my end goal would be reached. But eventually, all of that just seemed like too much work, so I continued driving west. I remembered father Scott had a small collection of guns under lock and key in his library. So, I drove west to Indiana and home.

You would think that stopping to get gas several times, having to pee, buying a coke for the road and even thanking the clerk for my change would have brought me out of my state. That these simple acts would jar me back into reality, that all the necessities of moving a body over a thousand miles over the course of many hours would give me a chance to taper off, cool down and let logic and reason back in my head. But it didn’t, I was always kind of thickheaded about those sorts of things. But hopefully not enough for one last thing.

I wasn’t until I was back at the Scott house in Omaha with the gun in my mouth that I was made aware of what I was doing. I had decided not to be discourteous in my demise. It was always the cleanup crew that got the worst of this sort of deal. Blood all over the carpet and brain matter on the wall, those are tough things to get out. Then, of course, if the body is not found right away, like if you were a single person living by yourself. It might be weeks before the neighbors reported a smell. By that point, the odor has gotten into everything inside the house. The only real way to get rid of it is to raze it to the ground and start over. So, I had decided to eat my bullet out by the pool. The body would be found almost right away, a gunshot outside would certainly be reported in THIS neighborhood, and the pools drains were already right there…

I was about to do it, when I chanced to look down at the deckchair and spotted one of the books I had been reading over the last few weeks. Looking back up at me was the smiling face of a heavily pregnant woman gracing the cover of “What to Expect When You’re Expecting.”

Sweetie, I bet they never thought to expect what happened to ME!

[***][***][***]

I didn’t kill myself, for those of you who were in suspense. It was a damn near thing, but the visual on that cover was enough to bring me back to my senses and the duty I owed to my child. My life was saved by the Omaha Public Library. I resolved to thank the next librarian I saw, and pay all my late fines forever without a grumble.

I walked upstairs to my bedroom and started to cry, then slept, cried again, then slept again. Eventually, it was Monday afternoon, and I walked down to the kitchen table for the first food in days, and to disassemble my pistol. I removed the bullets, placed it in its case and locked it in the gun cabinet. I then took the only set of keys to the cabinet and tossed them outside in the bushes. I’d have thrown the guns in the bushes, too, but there were kids in this neighborhood, and it was every adult’s duty to look out for the safety of children…born and unborn.

Eventually, I called Enterprise and they came to pick up their car. They charged me out the ASS for it. I had only expected to use it for a day and a hundred miles, but had sort of gone over my limit. Class that night was sedate, and the instructor even took some time out afterwards to ask me if everything was all right. It must have been some appearance I might have had, that he had taken some time off from the assembly line education practices to actually have some one on one face time. No, I was a pretty damn sight far from all right. But I had my duty, my routine, and it was enough for now.

Thomas called me, of course, and kept calling me every night. I let it go to voice mail, even when it was at the totally unexpected time of 2: P.M. He must have been quite desperate to get in contact with me, if he was willing to do it in broad daylight. Eventually, he gave up or his battery died, one or the other. I deleted the messages without even listening to them. I considered going to DeGeas for the divorce paperwork, but the shame of it prevented me. I had been so brash, full of assurances, and to now go prove DeGeas right would probably have set me over the edge, again. So, I let it wait. Besides, my claim to my own name as well as that of my child was through my marriage to Thomas, and I would be DAMNED if he would take my name away from my child. Time enough to worry about divorce later, maybe after the baby was born.

Boys still hit on me, even after I stopped all but the most basic of maintenance. Including one objectionable young gentleman who felt being on the football team should have made him more sexy than it did. With my fatalistic sense of humor, I toyed with the idea of saying yes to his propositions, then in a few weeks accidentally leaving a positive pregnancy test kit on the toilet seat where he could find it. But in order for that joke to work it, presupposes that I sleep with him, and sex was sort of a deal breaker. I had quite made my mind up to be a lesbian to the end of my days. Besides, a girl who plays that kind of trick too often gets a reputation about her. Much as I might wish to wreck Jessica now Thomas, for as long as I wore her body, I had to look out for my own self interest.

[***][***][***]

I was brought out of my funk somewhat by the arrival of a uniformed man at my front door. He was in Marine utilities with a gold oak leaf on his collar, my heart started jumping out of my chest. Only a couple reasons unknown officers show up at your door and few of them are good. I thought at first it was a bereavement call, my father had inherited that farm he was always talking about. The seven feet long, three feet wide one at Arlington. But if it was that sort of call, he would be in a more formal uniform, and there would be several officers one of them a Chaplin. This guy was a pilot judging by the wings on his chest, probably cobra’s he had that sort of swagger about him.

Plus, if General Ryan had died, they would be speaking to his son…

“Hello,” I said opening the door warily. “How can I help you Major…”

“Burt, Ma’am Gerald Burt, are you Jessica Ryan?”

“Well…yes, but I like to go by my middle name of Katherine, now.”

“Katherine then, you won’t know me, but I’m Kayleigh’s father… the little girl you rescued at LaGuardia Airport.”

“Oh!” I said surprised at meeting him. I hadn’t thought about that a bit since it happened ,and here it was again. I wasn’t in the mood for a gratitude call, but couldn’t figure out a way to tell him to go to hell without appearing like a total bitch, and I was sort of trying not to give into the whole jilted stereotype. “How is she? And please come in. I’m sorry about the state of the house, I’m the only one living here, and I only use about three rooms.”

“It’s a lovely house, imposing as hell, if you’ll pardon my language, Mrs. Ryan.”

“I’ve heard naughtier words before Major, my father was a m-, an engineer… lets go into the kitchen. I have a few cokes or I can make some coffee, or if you’re a Mormon or something, I can offer you the finest tap water.”

We stepped into the kitchen and Burt chose one of my Cokes, I begrudge him it though. I was down to my last three and that meant a trip to the store, which meant talking with people. Maybe I can sign up for a grocery delivery service?

“I can’t stay long, I only have a three hour layover, I asked for a stop in Omaha on my way back to New York so that I could thank you.”

“Well your welcome. So how is Kayleigh?” I asked, sitting down at the kitchen table. “Has she recovered from the experience?”

“She doesn’t know anything had happened. Other than some strange girl grabbed her and gave her a piggyback ride. The abduction was totally nonviolent, and she was back with her mother even before her usual pickup time at day care. She trusts adults, and is a happy girl in general, so we decided to let her keep her innocence for a while longer.”

“So, I’m the villain of the piece, am I? Well, I’ve been that, before.”

“Ha,” he chuckled. “Far from it, we are all very grateful for what you did.”

“What was the back story there? You know nuclear launch codes or something?”

“Nothing so interesting, it was just for money… ransom, they wanted two million dollars. they were on their way to Mexico when you interupted them.”

“Are you a millionaire Marine?” I smiled at him trying to poke fun at his discomfort.

“Sort of,” he said looking down at his drink. “My wife has the money. I spend as little of it as I can. I’m a lawyer most of the year, but my reserve unit got called up. My partners don’t like it when it happens, but they are good enough lawyers to recognize the liability if they ever put up much of a fuss.”

“I bet,” I smiled feeling my sense of humor come back after a long stay in the country. “So… you’re a Major?”

“Yes,” he replied hesitantly not seeing where my question was going.

“And you’re Kayleigh’s father?”

“Uh yea…”

“And you’re name is Gerald?”

“Yes,” he said rolling his eyes when he realized where I was headed. “This joke has been made before you know. God! I can’t wait until they bump me up to light colonel… but go ahead, get it off your chest.”

“Major Dad!” I burst out not being able to keep it in any longer, and then started laughing.

“You have a wonderful laugh, Mrs. Ryan, I’m glad to hear it, when I first knocked on your door, you looked a little bit like death warmed over.”

“I’ve been…going through a rough patch,” I said lowering my smile a bit. “Marital troubles…”

“That’s no good, particularly this soon.”

“Well we married to soon,” I allowed. “The baby.”

“All the more reason to try and make it work out, Cynthia and I went through a rough patch or two, but we made it through and are stronger for it.”

“Did you ever make a surprise trip to visit your newlywed and find her with another woman... or man I guess in your case?”

“No,” he said coldly. “I haven’t… that’s… damn! What kind of a man cheats on a girl like you?”

'No kind of a man, obviously!' I thought to myself.

“I’m trying not to think about it, and your visit has worked at that wonderfully, helps remind me that I’m not a complete failure at life.”

“Damn site you’re not, what the kidnappers didn’t know was that we don’t have two million dollars liquid. There is no way we could have raised enough cash in time. Likely they would have just killed her, so I owe you my daughter’s life. I want you to know that if you ever need something that is within my power to grant, you only have to ask. Legal help, a place to crash when you are in the city, I may even be able to get you Yankees tickets.”

“I don’t care for baseball, I already have a competent lawyer of my own. Besides, the type of help I’m likely to ask for wont be legal” I said staring at my bare ring finger.

Major Burt looked at me with an evil grin.

“Mrs. Ryan I’m a lawyer, but I’m also one from the Bronx, you want I should have his legs broken?”

[***][***][***]

The month of June just sort of slipped me by, I had finished my first course and dutifully signed up for two more, this time, in the day session. The results of the G.E.D. came back, as expected. Barelos slipped me into the university, I was now officially a college student, a broke one at that. The mortgages had produced cash, but most of it was tied up in investments so that it could generate an income, both to cover the payments and for me to live on, but the monthly budget was tight. I would most likely have to dip into savings this month, and the way things were looking, most months thereafter. So all things considered, I was in something of a depressed mood when the answer to several of my problems literally fell into my lap.

I was sitting in my traditional corner of the Blue Line Coffeehouse. One of these days, I would have to get an internet hooked up, but even then, I doubt I could get the cable man to bring me espresso every morning. There was a girl, young woman, I guess, who was looking at the bulletin board next to the restrooms; she was red-haired, and pixy small, if she topped five feet in anything but the high heels she was currently wearing, I would be surprised. She reached up on her toes to get a better look at one of the notices at the top of the board when one of the passing customers tried to duck away from the busboy’s cart and happened to give her the slightest of bumps, which coupled with her precarious position caused her to lose her balance, and topple over right into my arms, which were only just fast enough to catch her before her head hit the side of my table. I was not fast enough, of course, to save my mocha from spilling all over said table, including a bit on my new laptop.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” said the older man who had caused the accident. “Are you all right ladies, I didn’t think I had hit you that hard.”

“I just lost my balance,” said the girl, brushing the hair out of her face as she got on her feet. “How about you?” she said glancing at me.

“You’re pretty light,” I assured her with as comforting a smile as I could manage. “It’s my computer that took the worse hit, it looks like."

“Damn!" said the silver haired man. “Let me get you a couple of towels,” he finished as he walked to the front counter.

“And some water!” I said after him. “I need to cut the sugar from my mocha before it dries into a gooey mass.”

“Right.”

“Well, it’s a hell of a way to be introduced,” said the girl with a smile as she sat down at the other chair of my table. “But my name is Karen Steiner.”

“Katherine Ryan,” I offered my hand to her, which after a moment she took.

“Here you go,” said the man, as he came back and started wiping things. He took the table while I took my computer. Much of the splash got done on the case with only a bit on the screen and the keyboard. I would likely have to pop up the keys to get down enough to dry things out, but the patient looked viable.

“Is it going to be OK?” he asked.

“So far so good. I’m going to have to go underneath the keys, but no apparent damage at the moment.”

“Well, that’s good,” he nodded at me. “Look, I have to get to a meeting, here’s my card and ten dollars for some new drinks for you ladies. I’m very sorry for the trouble. If your computer needs a professional cleaning or maintenance, please let me know and I’ll cover it.”

“Fair enough,” I said looking across the table at Karen for agreement.

“That’s fine, it was an accident,” she said to him. “Thank you for being so nice about it.”

“Anyone who is mean to you two needs to get their heads examined,” he said with a grin. Then he nodded to both of us as he walked toward the door.

“What would you like,” asked Karen as she picked up the bill. “I’ll go order while you keep working on your laptop.

“I suddenly feel the need for a Blue Line Special.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s… awesome,” I replied letting my eyes glaze over. “Just the sort of thing to pick you up on a down day, though I have probably been having too many of them lately. It’s some chocolate ice-cream, a banana, and two shots of espresso dumped in a blender, served cold.”

“Sounds great! I’ll get two.”

Karen went to the counter while I powered down my computer and cracked the case. The coffee hadn’t really got very far, some very light water and a thorough drying had it good as new in no time.

“You were right,” she said enthusiastically as she came back with our drinks, sipping hers. “This is great! I REALLY needed it.”

“Oh? What’s got you down?” I asked since it seemed to be what she expected.

“I’m looking for a place to live,” she said blowing a strand of red hair from out of her eyes, looking dejected. “I mean I have a place to live at, that’s, the problem. I go to U.N.O., and my parents live in Omaha. So I don’t qualify for the on campus housing, but I HAVE TO GET OUT OF THERE.”

“Parents beat you, do they?” I asked amused.

“What! No,” she said eventually assuming it was a joke. “I just need my independence, I’m almost 19! Don’t you want to get out of your parents house?”

“Not really, it’s my house now… both of them are dead.”

“Oh,” she said taking a sip of her drink while thinking of something to say. “I’m sorry.”

“No reason for you to be sorry, unless you somehow did them both in, which I doubt.”

“I might just kill my own parents, but never someone else’s. I’ve been looking all month long. There are a couple of apartments, but they all seemed pretty scary. I really need a roommate anyway to help split the rent. Daddy said he would send a few hundred. I have my part-time job at the daycare, but it’s not enough for a single, not and pay for everything else at the same time, anyway. I had a line on several houses that some girls are splitting, but both of them were just one step up from a crack den, and I enjoy all my organs on the inside, not out. I’ve been reduced to checking these little notice boards every time I can, but it’s been pretty pointless, so far.”

“Have you tried the internet, some of those roommate wanted websites?”

“I looked into it, but the internet can be even scarier. Most of the ‘women’ on those sites were really guys pretending to be girls! And that really skeeves me out, I’m sure you’re the same way.”

Err

“Yeah, that just sounds wrong.” I agreed with her.

She gave me an acquisitive look, then sucked her drink daintily threw her straw. She looked sexy as hell while she did it, and I was pleased that my primary method of arousal was no longer so embarrassingly evident for everyone to see. My sexual orientation hadn’t changed with my body, which I guess made me a lesbian, now. I had been rationalizing my previous feelings toward Thomas by saying he still had the soul of the girl that I loved, and we were meant for each other. But my theory had been untested until it was rendered irrelevant. I was now rather pleased that I had any sort of sexual feelings at all, at the moment. It had been some time since I had felt anything but: fear, hate, rage, shame, and despair. This little pixie girl brightened my spirits just be smiling at me.

It would appear that I was not yet dead.

“You said you have your own house?” she asked me subtly.

“Yeah,” I replied sensing where this was going.

“Do you have a spare bedroom?” she asked with a puppy dog look they must teach girls in preschool or something. All they ever taught ME was not to eat the glue.

“One or two,” I admitted.

“I know we just met, but do you need a roommate? I’m super clean, I don’t have a boyfriend or anything, and I don’t invite random people over for wild parties when the parents are away, or in this case, the landlady. Is you place close to campus? Oh! Are you going to U.N.O. too? I see you have some heavy books in your bag, but you could just be a brainy girl.”

“Something wrong with being a brainy girl?” I asked amused.

“No, I like them a lot,” she said, winking at me.

'What the hell!'

“Um, I…, I’m not sure,” I stuttered, trying to gather my thoughts. “I hadn’t really thought about renting out, though there is plenty of room. I guess it would be nice to have someone else in that big rambling house.”

“That great! When can I take a look at it?”

“Ah, well I have class in thirty minutes. How about 4: P.M. I should be back by then. Let me write down the address.”

“Sounds like a plan, I’ll meet you there, we’ll look around and go out to dinner afterwards. My treat!”

“You sound pretty sure it will work out. What if the house turns out to be another crack den or I’m really a dude in disguise?”

“At this point Katherine,” she said happily, giving me a searching look trying to find any seams. “I’d be willing to lower my standards. See you tonight!”

[***][***][***]

Class went well, and for the first time in a while, I was more than slightly more than an animated collection of skin, clothes, and hair care products. Best of all, the instructor noted my participation. I braved the unknown maw that is U.N.O. parking, back at the house in plenty of time to see Karen drive up, walk to the front door while she was periodically checking the paper in her hand, looking about with a dazed expression.

“I thought you said you had a house ‘lower my standards’ this is a freakin MANSION!” she belted out at me when I opened the front door.

“I don’t think it quite qualifies as a mansion,” I mumbled defensively.

“OK… CASTLE then, look at all the stonework. Does it have a moat, too?”

“No, but there is a pool out back. I should be able to design a trench system to set one up, if you’re interested.”

“This is the Scott place! I remember Daddy used to take us here every Christmas to see all the lights and decorations. Your Dad really went all out! It was the best house in the city. I remember he even rigged up a Santa Claus on your roof that actually looked like he was taking off! How did he manage that?"

“Don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “Probably some sort of rail system and tricks lights.”

“Why did you guys stop doing it? I remember crying my eyes out the year it wasn’t there.”

“My father died.” I guessed for her.

“Oh… of course,” she said embarrassed. “I’m very sorry.”

“It was some time ago.”

“I thought you said your name was Ryan?”

“I got married,” I said simply.

“Oh, I thought you were a… does he live here too?” she asked uncertainly.

“No, he’s back east… he’s attending the Naval Academy for the next four years... you won’t be seeing him around, if that’s what you are worried about.” 'YOUR DAMN RIGHT YOU WONT!' I thought.

“Are you sure this is going to be all right? When I asked if you wanted a roommate, I thought I was asking a single girl with maybe a two bedroom bungalow.”

“There’s plenty of room, Karen, and to be honest, I could use the cash. The house itself is pretty much all that’s left. It takes up quite a bit of money in taxes and upkeep. I’m trying to go to school, too. So let’s take a look around,if it suits your needs, we can talk terms over that dinner you promised me.”

“Suits my needs? It’s a freakin palace!”

We toured the house from top to bottom, even came across some stuff that I didn’t even know was there. All through the inspection, Karen kept dropping hints that she probably was not going to be able to afford it. I countered with saying I was prepared to be reasonable. I could tell that she positively loved the house and all its features. She about had an instant orgasm when she saw the pool and the garden out back. The tennis court she was ambivalent about, but I could already see her plotting out sun tanning sessions in her head. When we were done looking around, she offered several restaurants that I knew were on the higher end of this town’s offering. But I took pity on a fellow starving college student, and we drove just down the street to the Olive Garden which while not the best Italian food in the world, was good enough, and at a reasonable price.

“So, what did you think of the old homestead,” I asked while eating my salad like a good little girl, and trying not to wince.

“It’s fantastic, I… well, I always dreamed about living in that house as a little girl when I saw it all lit up at Christmastime. But I’ll never be able to afford it…” said Karen as she lowered her head and pushed the salad back and forth on her plate.

“It’s cheaper than you might think. First, there is one big issue you don’t know about that may be a deal breaker for you.”

“I can imagine what that would be, are you a cannibal or a republican or something?”

"Hey!'

“Well, I haven’t eating anyone I liked recently, and I’m growing fond of you. The thing is though, I may not look it, but I’m over three months pregnant.”

“PREGNANT!” she said replying basically like everyone else did when I told them that.

“Yes,” I clarified.

“Oh so that’s why… that’s why you got married right out of high school?”

“Yes… though the, marriage may not work out.”

“Oh honey,” she said, grabbing my hand from across the table. “Not many of them do, I had a friend in my junior year who had a baby. The father tried staying around, but within six months, was out of the picture. Come to think of it, he joined the navy too! If your husband was any sort of man, he would be here with you, not all the way across the country… fuck him. Get on with your life.”

“I intend to,” I said, retrieving my hand from her grasp. “But having a baby isn’t easy, which comes to my proposal. I did a little market research on the going rate in town, a one bedroom place in a not so bad neighborhood would cost you $500 a month. That’s just starting price. A nice room like at my place with pool access, only  ¾ a mile from campus is harder to price accurately, but I have to imagine would run even more.”

“I know, and I can’t pay it,” she replied dejectedly.

“Maybe not with money, but what I was thinking of was a sort of work study program. I need the money, but I also need the HELP! I’m on my own in this town with no husband or family to help me out. And all my friends are back in New Hampshire. So… what I was thinking of was you pay me $300 a month, that covers everything. Rent, utilities, internet once I get it hooked up, even a space in my garage. That’s a pretty nice deal all things considered, but the second part is you pledge to work at least 10 hours a week around the house. Cleaning, laundry … can you do any cooking?”

“My mom taught me a little, no Thanksgiving feasts, if that is what you mean, but I can boil water without burning it.”

“Good,” I smiled at her, since that was about my own level of competence. “And of course, when the baby comes, I’m going to need even more help. You said you worked in a day care?”

“Well, really an afternoon care is when I do it, but yeah. Though the ones I deal with are toddlers and above. I don’t really have any experience with newborns.”

“More than me, I’ve never so much as changed a diaper, or babysat ANY child.”

“What NEVER? what where you doing during your girlhood?”

“Boarding school,” I answered, thinking that was a reasonable answer and more believable than the truth.

“Oh… right.”

“I’m planning on taking classes right up until the birth and then afterwards, just as soon as I get out of the hospital. But If I’m going to stay in school full time and still be a mom, I will need the occasional hour or two baby free where I can read my coursework or finish a paper. So having a live in sort-of-nanny on call seems to be a good option. $300 a month, 10 hours a week of work. And if it turns out that I need more than 10 hours a week worth of help, I’ll knock $15 an hour off the rent. If I get too overwhelmed, there could be months where you live rent free, or even get a paycheck! So what do you think?”

She pondered it all for a moment, as she savored one of the Oliver Gardens legendary breadsticks. I could tell she wanted to jump all over the deal. But she also didn’t want to appear too eager and uncool. Eventually though, she gave in.

“I guess it could work, but just the two of us? Rattling around in that big house like pinball’s in a machine. Seems a bit odd somehow.”

“Well that’s the other thing,” I said with a sly grin. “Have you got any friends?...”

[***][***][***]

Turns out Karen did have a friend, Rachel Dale who she had gone to a high school with in West Omaha. Rachel didn’t quite have the same all powerful desire to get out from under the thumb of the parental units, but she jumped at the chance when offered. She in turn was a cheerleader camp friends with two cousins who were coming to Omaha for school, and had planned to share a one bedroom 4 miles from campus. But hadn’t signed any paperwork,yet, and were ecstatic at the chance offered. So, virtually overnight, I went from terribly lonely near poverty to bustling activity and a healthy rental income. We hadn’t found anyone yet for the 6th bedroom, but everyone was keeping their eyes open for viable candidates.

It didn’t happen overnight of course, Karen and Rachel were going to need a few days to pack and get things together. Laura and Jo Ann the two cousins, were not planning on moving to Omaha until the first week of August. When DeGeas heard, he had to stick his nose in and see that I wasn’t being taken advantage of. He ran a background check on all the girls and their families, when that came back clean, he grunted and produced a positively byzantine lease agreement and employment contract. I only bothered to read the first five pages of before I skipped and signed where indicated. Rachel I think didn’t even get that far, just put her name where she was told to and handed it back to me.

Mr. Steiner pulled a paterfamilias of his own and demanded to see the place that his girl would be living in. Karen gave him the address, keeping a straight face all the way to the front driveway until she burst out in giggles at his dumbfounded look. Steiner recovered nicely and tried to overcompensate by grilling me mercilessly. I think he had seen way too many soft-core boarding school movies on Cinemax or something. But soon enough, he was satisfied with the situation when I relayed that I was more looking for nanny than the rent. He was enough of a parent to know that the too good to be true situation had pulled a sharp u-turn into hard work territory when it was mentioned that I would be using his daughter to help care for my own child. He was pleased enough that I was a respected married woman as well as a woman of property, and was content to leave his daughter in my house.

I hadn’t thought about those keys in the garden for days, and I was quite pleased about that upon reflection.

[***][***][***]