’ The woman’s eyes skimmed Moe like a slow massage, reaching every nook and cranny. She shifted her stance, and her belt gave up its battle. A sma...l hump of belly lay exposed. ‘You’re my kind of gentleman, Moe. I’m Mrs. Thompson, but you can call me Opal.’ Moe avoided looking at her bare stomach by nodding toward the mailbox. ‘And F. Thompson would be your husband?’ Opal suddenly remembered her robe and sheepishly closed it again, tightening the belt. ‘That would be my late husband. Eight. Sometimes I would cook for people too, just a few specials. Tommy and Diane were two such people. Diane and I hit it off immediately. Whenever I called in on her she would shoo the cat off her lap and say: ‘Off you go, Toby. My angel has come to see me.’ I just laughed and said, ‘You should be so lucky!’ and we just went from there. We used to have a good laugh all the time. I was looking after her. We hardly ever discussed the future, what was going to happen, although we both knew. There was. More

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