Bittersweet
Chapter One
A Rawboned Woman Nearly Six Feet Tall Pulled On The Brass handle; the door was wedged against the lintel and wouldn't close -- the fog that had lain over Philadelphia since late September had swelled the wood. Kicking a duffel bag out of the way, she grasped the knob with both hands and yanked. With a screech the door slammed shut. "Try opening that, Mr. Neff, you little, little man." She turned the key and the bolt clicked home.
It was a brass key ornate with scrollwork; the initials AMG had been engraved on the lemon-shaped head. The woman ran her thumb over the worn letters. "Amanda Montgomery Grelznik," she said softly and hurled the key over the porch railing into the fog. She listened for it to hit, but the thick mist swallowed the sound.
"Imogene." An angular man, all in gray, stood at the gate watching her. His head was bare to the cold and his hands, knotted with arthritis, rested on the pickets of the fence like gnarled winter branches.
"Mr. Utterback!" She picked up her suitcases and came down the steps to meet him. "I didn't hear you. With the fog I feel both deaf and blind."
"I see thee are packed. ... read full excerpt from Bittersweet ebook
