The Widow's Walk by Robert Barclay

began warbling. This was normally her favorite time of day, but tonight was vastly different, because for the first time in more than 170 years, she would attempt an actual conversation with another human being.
    Garrett had yet to return, and as the minutes ticked by, Constance became much more nervous. Even so, she was starting to get a feel for this man, this apparent architectural expert who had ordered the renovation of her beloved home. He seemed like someone who kept his promises, she realized.
    Then her thoughts again turned to Adam, and once more she opened the locket hanging about her neck. In the dim light of evening she could barely make out his portrait, but it was no matter. She had looked at it so many times over the years that by now her memory of it rivaled the portrait itself. How she missed him! Even now he was the one true love of her life, and her passion for him remained so deep and strong.
    As she closed the locket, her mind returned to the present. Garrett would be here soon, and with his arrival she must have a plan in place. Before now, she had always been able to remain here in this house seemingly forever, watching other people go about their lives. But because Garrett had so surprisingly recognized her existence, she felt that the time had come to share her many secrets, even if it was with just one man. With the knowledge that there was someone like him out there, she could no longer accept being merely a party to the world, but never a part of it.
    As she sat thinking, the seed of an idea came to her, something that she could perhaps propose to Garrett if all else failed. But would he accept the premise? She knew not, and doing so would surely be her last, best hope.
    Just then Constance saw the bright headlights of Garrett’s Jeep round the far corner of the road and pierce the darkness. Suddenly more fearful than at any time since falling from the widow’s walk, she left her chair and took refuge in the shadowy recesses of the house.
    A FTER EXITING HIS JEEP , Garrett stared up at Seaside, wondering whether he might ever again see the mysterious woman who haunted both his sleeping and waking moments. In truth, his feelings regarding her were torn. One part of him wanted her to be gone, so that he might find a measure of peace about all this. But the greater part wanted to see her again. Over the course of the last three days his strange longing for her had strengthened sharply. To his further frustration, he sensed that this surprising feeling would only intensify in the days to come.
    Perhaps tonight I will find out why, he thought as he began walking toward the house.
    On entering Seaside he quietly went from room to room, turning on all of Jay’s electric lanterns. Although they lit the house well, each lent an unnatural hue that he found jarring. As best he could tell, “she” was not here.
    Eager to see the progress that Jay’s men had made, Garrett walked back down the front porch steps and around one front corner of the house. He held a lamp high and did his best to examine the work. Much of one side of the house had already been stripped clean of the boards, and he could see where some of the wood underneath had become moldy and rotten. These areas would be replaced with fresh lumber before the new clapboards were installed.
    He then walked around the rest of the house, looking for other signs of work. All in all he was satisfied, and he could now understand Jay’s optimistic reappraisal of the timetable. Given that the project was under way, and that he had also accepted an offer on his condo, this had been a very good day.
    He walked back down to his Jeep, where he removed a few items before returning to the porch. After setting the electric lantern atop the porch railing, he settled into one of the folding chairs, lit a fresh cigar, and poured three fingers of Jack Daniel’s into a highball glass. He would sit here for a time, he decided, before going