“Leanne!” Ida was off her chair, facing Leanne, waving her hands as if flagging down a battleship. “Where’d you go, honey? Y’all are frowning like we’re at a funeral. It’s just hair.”
Leanne slapped her notebook shut. “Yes, I want you to do my hair up nice. And would you lend me that bright yellow dress you have? The one with the buttons on the cuffs?”
Ida swung back on one hip, eyes wide. “Not fading into the background tomorrow, are we?”
“Absolutely not. The method might be a bit…unorthodox, but the cause is important. No one’s going to push me and all the other dedicated knitters out of the picture tomorrow. Not while I’m around. There’s more to what we’re doing than Captain John Gallows, and the American people need to know that.”
Ida stood up, saluted and winked. “Yes, ma’am!”
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