“You’re right.”
“Does Laura know what you did with the sweater?”
“She does now. She was furious.”
“Good.”
“She cried too.”
“Good.”
Dolly looked surprised.
“That doesn’t fix anything.”
“No.”
I hesitated.
“Did she ask about me?”
“All night.”
I laughed softly.
“That’s about forty years too late.”
Dolly reached into her coat and pulled out a small piece of paper.
“This is her phone number.”
I looked at it but didn’t take it.
“She wants you to call.”
“Of course she does.”
“Do you want me to tell her
