‘This apartment idea may not be so hot after all,’ she said. ‘I hate to admit it, but maybe we were asking for trouble.’ Oh, God!! I felt a pa...g like a dull sword passing through my bowels. ‘Were?’ I prompted. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You remember old Mrs. Figgins? The widow with all the cats who lives downstairs?’ ‘Sure. What about her?’ ‘Well, Bette and I were coming back from the store, and when we stopped to check the mail box, Mrs. Figgins was there collecting her mail. She knew I’d been away. He’d brought her to gasping climax so many times, she’d barely been able to stay upright when they went for rejuvenating snacks, her equilibrium all out of whack. As Abbey thought of that night now, with them quickly moving toward the empty bandstand at the end of the plaza, she quickly dashed a tear from her eye. She was glad he wasn’t looking at her, but reasoned she could blame the tear on the brisk breeze if she had to. It had been such a wonderful night so far, and she cursed herself again. More

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