While Thelma Jeffry finished her coffee, she continued to rumble about how the world had gone to the dogs, and things weren't like that in her day, and how she feared for the next generation. She finished up her tirade with a bit about Madonna's sex book, on which she seemed curiously well informed. Eventually she got to the point of the visit.

“I just dropped by to bring you your check, Jane. I'd best be on my way. I'm giving a talk at my club luncheon today and I need to refresh myself on my notes." She shrugged into her suit jacket and fished a large green check out of her purse to hand to Jane.

Jane's late (and progressively less lamented) husband Steve had been a partner in the Jeffry family's small chain of drugstores — along with his widowed mother and his brother Ted. In the early years of Jane and Steve's marriage, the business had hit a rough financial spot at about the same time as Jane received a tidy little inheritance from a great-aunt. She had put her money into the pharmacy. Because of her investment at a crucial time and her role as a partner's widow, Jane received a third share of the chain's monthly profits and always would.

Jane was entitled to the money, but Thelma always presented the check in person, and always managed to make it seem like charity on her part instead of Jane's due. And when possible, like today, she made the "gift" in view of witnesses.

Jane folded the check, ostentatiously not looking at the amount, and put it in her jeans pocket. "Thanks, Thelma," she said through nearly gritted teeth.

“Why do you let her do that?" Shelley asked when Thelma had finally gone.

“Because I'm a wimp!" Jane said. "I keep trying to see it from her viewpoint. Steve's been dead for almost two years now and is going to keep on being dead, if you know what I mean. He's not working for the pharmacies anymore and never will again. She probably resents having to give me a third, just as if he were still contributing to making the profits.”