Frederick Gruber surveyed his wife"s handiwork from the foot of the bed he had shared with her for more than fifty years. His suit lay, pressed and flat, on the white tufted bedspread, the black wool free of so much as a hint of lint. A freshly bleached and starched Oxford was folded neatly and resting atop his pillow with his blue tie draped across it. Cecilia had even taken the time to polish the pair of black Florsheim wingtips before tucking a pair of his favorite argyle socks inside.
He couldn"t recall when she first began laying out his suit before each workday and he wasn"t about to question the practice. In their fifty years of marriage, Frederick"s wife had never once missed a speck of dust. The one time he brought up the ritual, she shrugged it off with the suggestion he not mis
