Marian threw her arms around him the moment he opened the door. “Robin!” It was the same everyday. No matter what the weather. No matter how little money he brought home to her.
“Hey,” Robin smiled. “Why d’ya stick around an old bum like me? Huh? It’s not ’cause of my looks is it? Beauty fades.”
“’t’s your heart, Darlin’. Always your heart. That, and the hope that one day you’ll bring home more than canned soup for dinner.” Marian held out her hand expectantly.
Robin’s face fell.
“No soup today. Rent was due.” Dammit, he should have kept that money. “Crackers and peanut butter?”
“Finished last week.” Marian shook her head. Robin threw open the front door. Too often had their mouths and stomachs been empty. All of them. And men still marched in three piece suits. And bought more cars than they could drive.
“Where are you going?” She grabbed his arm. He pulled away. And took a step.