Tiffany slipped the key into Devin’s hand and abandoned ship. She felt bad about doing that to him but she’d suddenly felt so claustrophobic, the room and the two strong personalities crushing in on her, that she had to run.
Downstairs was little better. The kitchen crowd surged into the parlor. Dance music sounded from out on the lawn. Danny McCall on vocals, the Judge (as everyone called the retired Judge Slater) on stand-up bass, and his wife playing a rocking lead acoustic guitar. Becky would be on the drums soon now that the music was gearing up. Tiffany played her harp with them on occasion, but not today.
Through the window, she could see that Jessica was still on the verandah bench. Tiffany didn’t dare go out that door or she’d be trapped in a conversation she didn’t know how to
