“Darla! Darla, put the pot on. Amber and her man are here!”
Amber smiled weakly and squeezed her husband, Andrew’s, hand harder.
“Come in, come in dearie. Watch your step, no sense getting mud on those designer kicks of yours.” Randi inclined her chin to Amber’s expensive heels.
“Of course not.” Andrew answered, not missing the blank look on Amber’s face.
Randi led them into the tiny bungalow and into a small sitting area. Thread barren rugs covered the floor, overlapping haphazardly and at odd angles. Randi walked over to a large chair covered in cat hair and sat down heavily, fur billowing out from around her in a cloud.
“There you are Darla!” Randi shouted when a young woman in cowboy boots and a worn jumper entered the room. &ldquo...
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