A Four-Dollar Worn Shawl to Wear to Belle Meade
I took two ceramic mugs down from the cabinet.
“I’ll make us some peppermint tea,” I said.
“And then you ought to go home and rest.
We’ve got a long weekend coming.”
Margaret nodded.
We drank our tea at the kitchen island.
We didn’t talk about the forgery or the wedding again.
Once the mugs were empty, Margaret hugged me at the front door.