The Widow's Walk by Robert Barclay

but where? The more he considered things, the more confused he became, especially about his growing attraction to her. It seemed to increase daily, but it had been especially pronounced last night, when he was in her actual presence. It was a heartfelt longing and a sharp sexual need that was causing him both joy and guilt.
    His feelings for Constance defied definition, and he had never before reacted this way to a woman. He could not call it love. No, this was more like an obsession—a fascination with this beautiful creature that drifted in and out of his life whenever she chose. Constance was affecting him deeply, but this morning would settle everything. Assuming that Constance showed up and kept her side of the bargain, his suspicions about her madness would surely be confirmed, and he could then put all of this to rest.
    But along with these worries had also come another and even more frightening concern. In all honesty, he was beginning to wonder whether he himself was going mad. Had he become some paranoid schizophrenic who saw people who weren’t really there? Was his mother right, when she suggested that he had subconsciously created Constance as his “antebellum dream girl,” and that her being in distress only added to her allure? He had no answers, and like his longing for Constance, the fear for his sanity was growing by the moment.
    Just then his stomach growled, reminding him that he had skipped dinner. He took a quick glance at his watch to find that it was six thirty. If he left soon, he could stop at his favorite diner and get some breakfast before heading out to Seaside.

Chapter 9
    Garrett’s mood lifted as he again watched Jay’s men scrambling about the property. Like yesterday, some were working atop the roof while others were busily tearing off the siding. Jay’s pickup was already here, but Trent had yet to arrive. Good, he thought. Garrett parked his Jeep and walked up the grassy knoll toward the porch.
    Will she really show up like she said? he wondered. Or has Constance been a figment of my imagination the entire time? Well, I’m about to find out . . .
    His tension rising with every step, Garrett entered the house then headed for the parlor, where Jay was dictating orders to a couple of his workers. Three more men were over at the coffee station, making selections from the doughnuts that Jay had brought. Constance was nowhere to be seen.
    Feeling relieved, Garrett walked over to the coffee station. After saying hello to the workmen, he poured a cup of black coffee and took a sip. He then made his way over to where Jay was standing.
    â€œHoney,” he said, “I’m home.”
    â€œYou hear that, guys?” Jay shouted out. “You all need to be on your best behavior, because Daddy Warbucks just arrived.”
    As the workmen laughed, Garrett joined in. He loved being around men who enjoyed a hard day’s work and knew how to get things done. There had in fact been times when he believed he would have been equally happy as a construction laborer, and if for one minute he thought that he could afford to take a sabbatical from the firm and work here instead, he would do it.
    Garrett looked back at Jay. “Thanks, dear,” he said. “It’s so heartwarming to know that you need me.”
    Jay laughed as he shook Garrett’s hand. “Yeah,” he answered, “about as much as a hole in my head.”
    Just then a familiar voice called out from the front door. “Hey!” Trent shouted. “Where is everybody?”
    Garrett stuck his head out into the hall and beckoned Trent forward. “Down here,” he said, “in the parlor.”
    Trent began trudging down the hallway. “The parlor,” he grumbled to himself. “Who the hell has a parlor these days?”
    When Trent arrived he spied the coffee and doughnuts, and he made a beeline for them.
    Jay shook his head. “Jesus,” he said,