The kitchen door swung inward and I tensed, expecting the depressing and judging pair of elderly ladies who ran my place to come galumphing into my presence and demand I do something. Well, Mary, anyway. Betty never, ever talked to me. I wondered sometimes if she even spoke a word to her sister or what reason she might have to hold her silence the way she did.

Who knew? Maybe it was just me.

Instead, a tall and handsome drink of water paused uncertainly just ...