‘Uh, hi, uh, I’m Frank DeMarco,’ he said. ‘You’re Millie, and you are…?’ he looked at me inquiringly.’ The luckiest guy on the planet,...�� I said. ‘I’m her husband, Jeff Wilson.’ He looked at Millie, then back at me. ‘You’ll get no argument from me, Mr. Wilson,’ he said with an envious shake of his head. ‘Can I call you Jeff? Have a seat, both of you.’ ‘Jeff is fine,’ I said. ‘Let me see the contract.’ ‘Right down to business, huh?’ he said. ‘Here you go.’ He handed me a folder that had been. My grandmother. She died when I was nine so I don’t really remember her much except from photos,” I said.“Er, I gots to asks,” Lia mugged. “But ‘Fenna’?”“Dutch.”“Really? Wow. How did that happen?”“Short version, he was over in Best - yes, he made that joke - working on some redevelopment, they met in a bar one night, they married out there, and they were inseparable ever after.”“Sounds bravely impetuous.”I shook my head. “He always said as soon as he met her, he knew. The rest? Just. More

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