Fourteen Months After I Buried My Best Friend His Widow Knocked at 9:40 at Night and Set His Garage Key on My Table

Fourteen months after I buried my best friend, his widow knocked on my door at 9:40 at night, soaking wet, and set the brass key to his garage on my table. Before the buyer comes back on the 22nd, you need to know something, she said. He left you instructions. About me. I thought I knew exactly what that meant, and I was wrong in the one way that mattered.