Immediately after young Allred left, I phoned Alcina and told her that her faux fiancé had been over. Then I asked her when we could meet, and where. She whispered that she’d be over as soon as it was feasible and quickly hung up.
A few hours later she was at my door, sans wig, sans dark glasses but carrying her laptop and a travel bag.
“Where have you been? And”—looking at the bag—“where are you going?”
“I’ve been at home, planning a wedding, and we’re going to Kirtland.”
I was confounded. “Wedding? We? Kirtland?”
“Let’s have a cool one—for the road,” she suggested.
A few hours later she was at my door, sans wig, sans dark glasses but carrying her laptop and a travel bag.
“Where have you been? And”—looking at the bag—“where are you going?”
“I’ve been at home, planning a wedding, and we’re going to Kirtland.”
I was confounded. “Wedding? We? Kirtland?”
“Let’s have a cool one—for the road,” she suggested.
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