Folly Cove
“no matter how excited Rhonda looked as she waved them off—was an even bigger mistake. She knew that as soon as Gil Mandel walked her out to his blue car, a stocky man wearing carefully pressed khakis and a navy blue polo shirt. He must have pressed those pants himself, since his wife had been dead a year, according to Rhonda.
But what choice did she have? Here was Gil in his neatly creased trousers, gallantly opening the door of his Subaru, so Sarah swept her camel’s wool coat beneath her l...egs and settled herself on the passenger seat. At least there were no crumbs or cans rolling around on the floor: she couldn’t abide by any evidence of people eating in their cars.
They drove half an hour north to a restaurant on the water in Newburyport. Sarah had selected the place; she didn’t want to meet anyone she knew. She loved a good Manhattan and felt immediately calmer when the drink was between her hands, despite noticing the water glasses were cloudy.MoreLess
But what choice did she have? Here was Gil in his neatly creased trousers, gallantly opening the door of his Subaru, so Sarah swept her camel’s wool coat beneath her l...egs and settled herself on the passenger seat. At least there were no crumbs or cans rolling around on the floor: she couldn’t abide by any evidence of people eating in their cars.
They drove half an hour north to a restaurant on the water in Newburyport. Sarah had selected the place; she didn’t want to meet anyone she knew. She loved a good Manhattan and felt immediately calmer when the drink was between her hands, despite noticing the water glasses were cloudy.MoreLess
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