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”
I pointed toward the bags.
“Outnumbered.”
She stared at me for three seconds.
Then laughed so hard the loaf of bread in her lap nearly fell onto the pavement.
“Fine.”
She pointed at the groceries.
“You may carry those.”
Then at her chair.