At 73, I Married My Dying High School Sweetheart as His Final Wish—After the Funeral, His Lawyer Knocked on My Door and Said, “You Walked Right Into His Trap”
“Everybody knows he owned it.”
Not an answer.
Then:
“You need somebody helping with his estate.”
“His attorney is handling it.”
“Attorneys charge money for breathing.”
“So do plumbers.”
“I’m serious.”
