Chapter Sixteen
A minute later they’d bustled Wanda into Miles’s now-gleaming kitchen. Miles made coffee and Myrtle dug up leftovers that she heated and shoved in front of Wanda. Wanda watched them listlessly.
“Got to tell you somethin’,” she grated.
“First, you must eat. For heaven’s sake, you’d collapsed out there!” said Myrtle.
Wanda shook her head. “Napping.”
“Well, it sure didn’t look like napping. It looked like ‘passed out.’ Now go ahead and eat this stuff.” Myrtle studied the food. “It looks like roast beef and potatoes and I’m sure it’s good if Miles made it. He can only cook four things, but each one of them is like an art form.”
Miles put the coffee, black as Wanda preferred it, in front of the woman. They watched as she inhaled the food and drank the hot coffee down, winc
