Robin drove to the church, but it was entirely under protest. Maxine and Sarah had shown up at Hank’s at five and insisted that she eat dinner with them. All she longed to do was go home and hide, to mull over that morning’s interview until she dissected all of the things she probably said the wrong way. But, she couldn’t go home, could she? She didn’t even have a home anymore. She had an air mattress in what would be Maxine’s art studio.
Sarah slid out of the back seat of the car and looked at her watch. “What time does your church start?”
Maxine got out of the passenger’s seat. “Seven on Wednesdays.”
“It’s five after.”
Robin laid her head on the steering wheel. “I have a headache. Why don’t you two go on. I’ll come back and get you.”
“No you don’t,” Maxine said, opening the door. “T
