Mabel sends the long-suffering George down to check on a noise.
“Did you hear that?”
“Mabel, I am not getting up to check again!”
“But George, I’m sure it’s a serial killer trying to get in! Please!
George sighed, rolled to a sitting position and slid on his slippers. Reaching to the head of the bed on his side, he grabbed his baseball bat. He stood and moved to the bedroom door.
“Be careful, honey!” Mabel whispered.
George grunted and kept moving out into the hall. He hesitated at the top of the stairs, listening. He began to move stealthily down the stairs, avoiding the ones that creaked.
There was profound silence for so long, Mabel began to worry. Then out of nowhere a loud thump shook the entire old house. More silence.
“Mabel dear, it’s for you!” George roared up the stairs.
Intrigued, Mabel got up, put on her robe and slippers and headed toward her husband’s voice. He seemed to be talking to someone. When she reached the front hall, there was George and a man in a blue uniform.
“Mrs. Mabel Nesbitt?”
“Yes, what is this about?”
“Parcel delivery, sign here please!”
Mabel stared at the wooden crate that was standing between George and the delivery man.
“What on earth is that?” she exclaimed.
“I have no idea ma`am, sign here.”
So she did. George went for his pry bar and began to open the tall box.
“Here’s a letter,” he said as he handed her an envelope.
Mabel slit it open with a nail and pulled out a single sheet. She read what was written, then fainted dead away.
“What on earth? Mabel, are you all right?” George said, patting her hand.
“Close it up and send it to Trask’s now!”
“The funeral home? Why?”
“It’s Sam Tolliver, my ex-husband!”
At those words, George fainted.