I stood in the front doorway, the last line of defense.
“Who is it?” my wife barked from the kitchen.
Tell her the truth? I couldn’t. Not without a gun to my head.
I turned to the beautiful young woman on my doorstep. Three months ago, we turned our unlikely friendship into an improbable romance.
“Would you like to donate to the mayor’s re-election campaign?” she asked with a wry smile.
A coincidence? A shakedown? Questions were a luxury at the moment.
I pulled out my wallet and stuffed two bills into her plastic canister.
“You’re welcome,” I told her.
The Weekday One Hundred 