Stanley waited patiently inside the Pearly Gates for a moment in which he could speak with St. Peter.

     “Excuse me, sir,” he began.

     “Stanley Evans, how are you doing?”

     “Fine, fine. I’m just checking to see if my dear sweet wife Margaret has finally come home to spend eternity with me.”

     “Oh, yes, actually-“ Peter said. “Uh, but…oh dear.”

     “What is it?” asked Stan with a trembling lip. “She didn’t go…downstairs…did she?”

     “Well no, of course not. It’s just-“

     “Spit it out, sir. Please.”

     Peter curled out his lip. “It appears she remarried six months after you died. She is with her new husband.”

Stan stomped his foot soundlessly on the cloud. “New husband? We literally swore to be together for all of time!”

“Well, to be fair, George was a rather sharp Sunday dresser. And he did have a pretty sweet RV, if I must say myself. And he kept a near perfect St. Augustine lawn..”

     “GEORGE?!? The shuffleboard guy? Really?”

     Peter shrugged.

     Just then, George walked over with his bride. “Did I hear my name?”

     Stanley’s jaw dropped, yet it was Peter who spoke. “Well, this is awkward.”