Emily scanned the rear of the house from the lilac bushes to the rhododendron, and laurel to the rose arbor. Looking past the arbor, she finally spotted Pru pulling up weeds behind the ragged zinnias and cosmos, looking like her Little Girl in Cream doll with her ankle-length skirt and ruffled blouse.
Emily braced herself. Not because Pru was any kind of threat but out of concern for Pru’s grip on reality. She did so much daydreaming that the way things were turning out, she might be more of a hindrance than a help. She wished she could ask her directly what exactly was going on between the three of them, about the altercation that had set them apart. But Pru being Pru would doubtless only go off on a tangent, create some comparable faerie tale, and leave the matter even more convoluted.
