Fearscape
“What did one wear gearing up for such a confrontation? And how did one don armor for a weakness of the heart? Normally, Val went to her mother for fashion advice but in this case she knew what the answer would be. Don't confront him. Run.
It was good advice. Sensible. Val disregarded it.
She settled on a white camisole, a green button-down henley, and a pair of mid-length khaki shorts that made her butt look big. Lisa would not have approved of the outfit at all, shorts aside. She would have pointed out that Val looked like she should be going door-to-door, peddling copies of The Watchtower. Val put her hair into pigtails for good measure.
Her mother blinked when she saw her. “Is that what you're wearing?”
“Yup.”
Mrs. Kimble seemed about to say something. Then she closed her mouth and shook her head. “Are you ready to leave?”
As ready as I'll ever be.
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