At The Country Kitchen in Sheridan, Wyoming, Dolly sits in a booth, dressed in a pink pant suit, her blonde, frizzy hair sparkling in the sunlight. She barely touches her Gouda cheese omelet. Jolene sits across from her, wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt with “Wyoming Cowboys” emblazoned in bold black letters on the front. Her dark hair is cut short. She wolfs down her barbecued chicken sandwich, also with Gouda cheese.
“I’m surprised to see you,” she tells Dolly. “When I called and asked if we could meet, I didn’t think you’d come all the way out here from New York just to see me.”
“I don’t know what he sees in you, honey. You’re so plain.”
“Maybe it’s the fact that I’m always there for him. I don’t travel around the country, giving concerts, signing autographs, smiling at other men.”
“But that’s my work. He knew that…
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