“I didn’t realize how much I love apartment-hunting!” Velma peeked into the bathroom and imagined the happy lives conducted there. A happy young mother and happy little girl, perhaps.
She did not mourn her spinsterhood — being an extra girl was a historical necessity, but she thought about … alternatives.
She peeked in the closet of the next apartment.
The engaged bakery girl?
Looks that way.
Withdrawing a plastic-wrapped kleenex, she dabbed at her eye.
Then closed her purse resolutely. She loved her freedom, her friends, and above all, the quiet.