I’m in the Denver airport, checking e-mail and a woman comes over and says, “I hate to ask you this, but are you Laura Lippman?”
And her daughter, a 4-year-old cutie that I had noticed while we were in the ticket line is named . . . Tess. Yes, that Tess. We just had our photo taken together and her mother, a lovely woman named Angie, claims it will be their Christmas card.