They Went on a Holiday Cruise and Left Me With a Man They Called a “Problem”

exile. In one hand, a leather suitcase. In the other, a black cane polished to a soft shine. His shoes were shined too. That impressed me more than I cared to admit.

“Mrs. Harris,” he said, inclining his head just enough to be gracious without surrendering an inch of ground. His voice was smooth and unhurried, like a radio announcer from a more careful continue reading …