Jeff, at home, was shaken by Susan’s phone call. He made another cup of black tea, walked over to his apartment window, and sat down in his rocking chair to watch the snow plows clear his cul-de-sac. He felt bad about being so short with her, but what could he do? She didn’t seem to understand that it was over, and the more he spoke to her, the stronger her feelings for him became. Out of the lower left corner of the window, he saw Susan’s red Ford Focus pull into the apartment complex. “I can’t believe this,” he said, standing up and spilling the hot tea on his wide legged white pants.

She stepped out of the car, pulled on her coat, and walked toward the stairwell of his apartment.

“I can’t believe the bitch is here,” Jeff said, setting the tea cup on the kitchen counter and running to the front door.

Through the peephole he could see her standing in the stairwell amid the Christmas decorations. She rang the doorbell several times and then slid a wide manila envelope beneath the door of his apartment.