I took the letter to the veranda chair and began to read it. It was nice to catch any breeze to allay the hot sun. I read on. So, he was finally dead. Whilst it was true that my uncle enjoyed my husband’s company, which Walter graciously bestowed on him, his grandchildren, especially Simone, were far less forthcoming and were more than a tad afraid of him. My husband was shocked to hear of his age thinking him much older than he was. I guess he did go through a lot in Salem. Others fared worse.

Now I had to write a return letter with condolences. I hated writing those types of letters. I wanted to put it off for another day but I knew if I did that, I would never write it. I could say that she was better off without him but Betty would not take well to that at all. Her love and loyalty were matchless. Instead I had to indulge in platitudes. I was not good at this at all.