Whitley was sitting in the passenger seat of a very large SUV. Fortunately, she’d come well-equipped with tissues and was sitting with an entire box in her lap. She jumped a little when she realized someone was standing there and then relaxed when she saw it was Myrtle.
“Miss Myrtle,” she croaked.
Myrtle patted Whitley’s hand. “I’m so very sorry. Do you think I could sit with you for a few moments? I think everyone in attendance at the service was most concerned about you. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“Of course . . . you can sit in the driver’s seat,” said Whitley. She took another tissue out and scrubbed at her face as Myrtle walked around the large car, leaning heavily on her cane on the uneven ground.
When Myrtle climbed in, Whitley said, “I feel bad about leaving b
