I MAKE IT A PRACTICE to pray the Rosary whenever I’m driving alone. I am offering this one in the heartfelt hope that the woman I’m about to visit will not eat me alive and spit out my bones.
I am not optimistic.
When my text messaging beeps, I almost slam on brakes. Instead, I pull responsibly to the side of the road and check my phone.
Helen has contacted me with a simple message:
Too busy for lunch. See you tonight. Love you.
I text back:
Ditto here except I am probably in more danger than you are today. Going out to see Gloria MacMillan about that painting.
Her response:
I’ll have a uniform standing by to rescue you in case you need it. If I don’t hear from you within an hour I’ll send them out lights and sirens blaring.
The ironic thing about visiting Mrs. MacMillan is that i
