Then they both hung up their telephones.
By the time Priscilla had finished her personal calls, Cheryl Tupper appeared at her front door. Priscilla could not believe her eyes when Cheryl greeted her.
As if she had found a long lost friend, Cheryl said, “Oh, PJ, it’s so good to see you. Looking good, girl—despite the—” She wiped tears from her eyes.
Priscilla saw that Cheryl had left her camera crew under the protruding gable of her stately Victorian home and that Cheryl had gone inside alone. Priscilla knew instinctively that Cheryl had wanted to assess the situation with her first.
“Ah heck, Cheryl,” Priscilla said, “tell them to come on in and join us for coffee. And if you don’t think I’ll look good on camera with a cigarette in my hand, nudge me when I look like I’m gonna pick up t
