The woman standing next to Marcus, a late-forties brunette with a heart-shaped face and a trim body, dressed as Clara Barton, the founder of the American Red Cross. She wore a checkered blue polyester dress with a white apron hung around her neck and cinched at her waist. Bright red crosses were patched on her arms and chest, and a standard white nurse's cap adorned her head. The woman looked entirely too familiar, but I was afraid of introducing myself if we'd already met and I'd forgotten her name.
Marcus, leaning in too close for the woman's comfort judging by the frown on her lips, solved that issue for me. “You must know Lissette Nutberry, I presume. Her family runs a few funeral homes and the local pharmacy down on Main Street,” he noted with a boisterous laugh.
Ah, yes! I'd not sp
