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“Yes, but we made colorful outfits for mine.”
I remember.There’s a pause, then her voice is stronger. Indignant.You put bright undergarments on my dolls.
I bite my lip to hold back a grin. “I did that for a year before you noticed.”
She’s as scandalized now as she was then.Of course I didn’t! There was no reason to look under their clothes.
It’s not long before I notice Marguerite’s responses become more solid if I bring forth a memory and let her complete it. We continue, recalling pulling weeds and shelling peas and making a tangled mess in our first weaving lesson.
Athene’s voice is suddenly in my ear. “Ask her a simple question, and let go of her hand, quickly.”
I say the first thing which pops in my head. “What is my favorite kind of biscuit?”
Our hands separate just in time for me to hear Marguerite’s answer, which comes from her own lips.
“Ginger.”
