Why Two Electric Hair Clippers Appeared on the Dance Floor at Our Reception
When I finished, I placed the ivory brush back on the vanity, right next to the crystal dish.
Maribel turned and looked at me, her fingers resting lightly on my sleeve.
“Thank you, Clara,” she said.
We walked out into the kitchen, where the coffee pot was beginning to hiss on the stove.
The table was set with three blue ceramic mugs and a small plate of buttered toast.
“We have to be on the road by eleven if we want to beat the traffic through Columbus,” Mason said, looking at his watch.
“The context of the drive is important,” he added, trying to find his familiar teacher’s voice. “If we miss the construction window, we will be sitting on the interstate for hours.”
“You will not miss anything,” Maribel said, sitting down at the table and pouring the hot coffee.
She did not look tired or anxious anymore; her movements were slow but deliberate.
Evelyn had called her twice during the night, Maribel told us, to make sure she had arrived home safely from the reception.
