Pilar was unchanged, the bright pink streaks in her silver-blonde hair notwithstanding. She even smelled the same, a fragrant combination of cinnamon and exotic Italian perfume.
“Darling, darling, darling.” Pilar kissed both cheeks, pulled back to stare at Sharon and kissed her again, a little more seriously, on the mouth. “You look positively medieval. Good thing for you, I have an appointment tomorrow with Celeste.”
“Well,” Sharon frowned, self-consciously touching her going-gray brown hair, “you look lovely.”
“Oh, I’m not saying you don’t look beautiful, Roni,” Pilar said. “But your fashion sense? Do you even have shops, aside from Wal-Mart?”
“Believe it or not, there are stores that don’t line 5th Avenue,” Sharon said.
“You know the world ends at the Queensboro Bridge.” Pilar smir
