Graycorts
“Mrs. Graycort, these are my cousins from Boston. My Aunt Cass’s girls, Christine and Chastity Mactire.”
“Pleasure! Come in! I’ll see if Mina is available. If she’s not here, they’re probably next door coming up with some new makeup or something,” Mrs. Graycort held the door open, and we came in.
“Did you get my text?” Kam asked when we came inside.
I laughed. “Was she really so jealous?”
Rose snorted. “She was greener than a sick leprechaun on St. Patrick’s Day.”
“Leprechauns aren’t green,” Chrissy said. I groaned. “They have very tan skin, and hate being referred to as ‘little people.’ They also suck at tipping.”
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