4
Holly and I walked quickly into Marla’s kitchen. She greeted friends. Then she stepped out to the screened porch, where she scanned the group out back. I wondered if she was looking for the man from the driveway.
I slid up beside her. “Let’s have some wine,” I whispered. “Then we can talk.”
“Okay.” Her velvety-blue eyes darted right and left. She said under her breath, “I’m in a relationship mess.”
“With that guy out front?”
“Not him, not …” She seemed about to add, anymore, but changed her mind. “That guy’s just a nutty manipulator who’s trying to get money out of me.”
“A nutty manipulator?” I repeated, trying to think of a place in Marla’s new house where we could have a confidential conversation. At the same time, I wondered if I could hand over the timing of the oven to someone
