of July cookout, relayed to me by Clare in a midnight call. Evelyn couldn’t handle the real world, so she ran away to play soldier.
I took a glass of pinot noir from a passing tray and found my seat. Table 22. The last table, by the kitchen door. My place card didn’t even say Evelyn Ulette. It said Guest of the Bride. Table one had white roses and orchids.continue reading …
