Chapter Twenty
Miles rolled down his window. “Do you . . . well, will you have trouble getting in and out of the backseat, Myrtle?” He gave Myrtle’s ensemble a confused stare.
“Certainly not! I’m fine sitting in the backseat with Wanda.” Myrtle devoutly hoped that no one was actually paying any attention to the length of time that it took her to fold her legs into the car. She blamed it all on the fact that she had to put the blasted cane in first.
Puddin was pleased as punch at being in the front seat with Miles, but her eyes darkened as Wanda quietly climbed in next to Myrtle. She started muttering what sounded like dire statements under her breath as Miles pulled out of the driveway and headed out toward the Bradley Country Club.
Myrtle ignored her. “So tell me, Wanda, what are you
