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“We should be leaving in about half an hour,” my mother said.
She was seated on a lounge chair in the sunroom, already dressed and ready to go. Hilary and I were seated on the matching rattan love seat, still in our PJs.
“Okay,” I said, getting up. “I’m gonna get ready.”
Hilary stood up by my side. “Me too.”
As we walked out of the sunroom, she reached for me and, holding hands like two lost five-year-old girls, we walked across the hallway and into the foyer.
I had just set foot on the first step of the stairs when the bell rang.
With a frown, I turned to the door.
“Holy s**t, haven’t they bothered us enough this morning?” Hilary said.
“Apparently not,” I said, walking to the front door. Rosa stepped out from the hallway, but I waved her off. “I’ve got it. No worries.”
She wi
