Chapter 42
“What makes you girls think I’ll be able to help?” Esther poured decaf coffee into a mug, added sugar and creamer, and sat down at her kitchen table opposite from me. Her bangles clinked happily against her enamel watch band as she raised the cup to her berry-tinted lips. She was in full makeup at 6:00 pm on a random Tuesday night. Her salt-and-pepper hair was stiff with products, and she looked as though she was going out on a date in her plum pants and floral silk blouse. Windowed ten years ago, a date wasn’t an impossibility for Esther. Rachel said she’s the toast of the country club’s Senior Scooters, a dance group for the local fifty-plus crowd.
We’d just spent an hour telling her everything that had happened since the estate sale, from Ruth Claudia who didn’t even rememb
