Seventy-Two-Year-Old Darla Pays Cash for an Emerald Green Prom Dress
“It’s going to be fine.”
“Jodi,” Darla said, her voice sinking into the quiet, hard tone she used when she was sizing up a room.
“You sound like your oil light’s on.”
“We’re doing all right,” I said.
“Rory called me Tuesday,” Darla said.
“He told me he gave you money for Sadie’s senior expenses.”
I sat up straight on the cold wooden step and pulled my coat tighter around my knees.
“He said that to you?” I asked.
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