Dying to Retire by Jessica Fletcher

wouldn’t be the first,” Clarence replied.
    “We were hoping we might have a word with you.”
    He looked unsure whether to invite us inside, jingling change in his pocket while deciding. The sound of loud voices coming from the bedroom caused him to look back into the apartment. He sighed.
    “What’s going on?” Seth asked.
    “Portia’s friends,” Clarence said, holding the door wide so we could enter. “That’s what they call themselves anyway.” He shuffled into the living room and collapsed on the couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Seth and I took chairs facing him.
    “They decided I couldn’t dispose of her things by myself, and elected themselves to take over the task. I hope they’re not planning to be here all day.”
    “If this isn’t a convenient time for you, you should ask them to leave,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t apply my suggestion to us.
    He raised his head. “It has to be done sometime, I suppose. I guess now is as good as ever.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes.
    “No, it’s not,” Seth said, getting out of his chair. “I think you need rest more than you need help packing up. That’s my prescription. Consider me your temporary physician.” He walked out of the room. I heard frantic barking from the tiny sentry.
    “What’s he going to do?”
    “I imagine he’s going to ask them to leave,” I said. “Is that all right with you?”
    A trace of a smile crossed his lips. “It’s more than all right.”
    A moment later Seth emerged from the hallway with three women in tow, Monica Kotansky—Snowy growling softly from the safety of his mistress’s arms—her sister Carrie, and a third woman I hadn’t met before but later learned was called Olga Piper. The trio had dressed carefully for their visit, looking more like guests at a party than a cleanup brigade, although two of them held green plastic sacks.
    “Everything is sorted into bags now,” Carrie called to Clarence. “They’re all on your bed, and we’re throwing away the garbage.”
    “It should be easy for you from here on out,” Olga added. “The twins will bring up your old dresser from storage.”
    “Thank you, ladies.”
    “Oh, Clarence, I hadn’t realized you weren’t feeling well. I’m so sorry,” Monica said, starting across the room.
    Seth made a grab for her elbow but quickly pulled his hand away when Snowy thrust his snout forward and snapped at him.
    “Snowy!” Monica chided, wrapping her fingers around her dog’s muzzle. “You be nice to the nice doctor.” She kissed the dog’s nose and smiled coyly at Seth.
    “You’re being very kind to Clarence,” he said, guiding her to the foyer but keeping his hands well away. “However, right now what he needs most is rest. I’m sure he’ll be very grateful for all your assistance at a later date.”
    “But you and Jessica are staying,” she complained as he held open the door.
    “Not for long, I promise you,” Seth said. “See you later.” He gave her his best smile; she turned and blew him a kiss as she followed her friends down the hall.
    Seth closed the door behind them, and we could hear their voices growing faint as they descended the stairs to the first floor.
    “Bless you,” Clarence whispered. “I didn’t have the nerve to ask them to go, but I’m glad you did.”
    “If you’d like to lie down and rest, we’ll go as well,” I said, rising.
    “No, it’s fine,” he said. “You’re welcome to stay. I think there’s coffee in the kitchen, if you’d like it. And help yourself to some cake, please. I’ve got enough to open a bakery.” He went to the table in the dining alcove and began removing plastic wrap from the dishes.
    “Don’t fuss for us,” I said. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” I asked, heading to the kitchen.
    “I would. Black, no sugar,” he said, thanking me again when I returned with three cups and handed him one. He took