Thought About Your Style Lately?
|"What did your poor little girls-like-me-can-always-manage have to say?"|
Most people die surprised - at least murder victims, which were his specialty. He had seen it in their eyes. Not wildly surprised, but mildly. Not condemned men, though, and not him. Today held no surprises at all for him. On this very last Christmas Eve, it was George Able who held all the surprises.
He shot his arm from the sleeve of his black wool dress coat, exposing a cheap watch that rattled loosely on his wrist bones. It was unreliable, but today, it did not matter. He had looked at it out of habit. When you ran out of time, that was that. He stepped off the curb.
"As you recall," James said, "I have a serious heart condition. In fact, I had to have bypass surgery last month. I almost died, remember? But, I know in my damaged heart that you cared then. You told me you loved me."
"Yes, I remember," said Beatrice. "But after your surgery - and remarkably fast recovery - you were healthy enough to have that affair with the neighbor woman two doors down, Sadie Walters. If I have been cool since I discovered your little love letter to her you were writing and carelessly left on the desk in your study, perhaps I have had my reasons."