I Married a Wealthy 79-Year-Old Woman for Her Money—After She Died, Her Lawyer Slid Me a Cardboard Box and Said, “You Walked Straight Into Her Trap”
“No.”
“I have blankets.”
“No.”
“I have survived Vermont winters longer than you have been alive.”
“Not tonight.”
I drove across town.
Found an emergency heating technician willing to come.
Paid the after-hours call myself.
