As she paced back and forth in the entrance hall of her modest home, cracking her fingers every couple of minutes as the nerves grew, Beatrice was slowly coming to terms with the unarguable fact that she had been stood up. Hung out to dry. Kicked to the curb like last night’s trash. What was meant to be a romantic dinner for two had very quickly become a sobering meal for one.

Beatrice still couldn’t believe it. Sure, she should have believed it. And as she glanced at the large grandfather c...