Chapter 14
Mac took a long look around the baggage claim area at Pittsburgh International Airport. He was searching for an ancient woman with dyed orange hair and lipstick to match. Her lips would be drawn on bigger than the thin line she was stuck with for a mouth. She’d be wearing a cotton dress with a floral pattern, and she’d call it a “shift.” Feathered mules on her feet, no matter the weather or the disapproving glances of strangers. More than likely she’d have a paperback novel in her lap, something dog-eared with its spine broken, by someone like Jackie Collins or Mary Higgins Clark.
And there she was! Aunt Virginia! She didn’t see Mac coming, dragging his army-green duffel behind him. She was his grandmother’s sister, older than her by five years, but still, quite obviously, fit
