Got Your Number

in a diner."
    "You're joking."
    "Nope."
    "Oh, God, that's so exciting—a waitress by day, and rescuer by night."
    "Not so exciting, just exhausting."
    Angora crinkled her nose. "I'll bet you have to wear ugly shoes."
    Roxann laughed. "Not anymore, I was fired."
    "Fired? Why?"
    "Because a relocation took longer than I expected, and I was late."
    "Don't the people at the diner know what else you do?"
    "No. It's better to keep a low profile."
    Angora wet her lips—this was better than the movies. "Last night did you get called about a...what do you call it?"
    "A relocation? Yes."
    She sighed and eased back her aching head—oh, the drama. Meanwhile, life was passing her by as if she were one of those statues in the wing of the museum that only school kids visited, and then under protest.
    "How are you feeling?" Roxann asked.
    "Lousy."
    "At this hour of the day, I'll have you home in no time."
    She grimaced at the pre-dawn scenery flying by. "Don't hurry on my account."
    "Hey, today can't be as bad as yesterday."
    "Oh, yes it can. By now Mother will have identified everything I should have done to keep Trenton from standing me up at the altar, and she'll have devised a plan to save face with everyone who attended the wedding."
    "Dee is...meticulous."
    "And still in bed, I hope. If I'm lucky and the maid cooperates, Mother won't even know I'm in the house until dinnertime."
    But it was not to be. When they pulled up to the huge brick home that her father had built to her mother's specifications twenty-five years ago, nearly every light was blazing.
    "I'd forgotten your house was so big," Roxann murmured.
    Angora swallowed. "I don't think I can do this."
    Then the front door opened, silhouetting her mother in a voluminous muumuu. She did not look relieved to see her only child home safe and sound.
    "Correction—I know I can't do this."
    Roxann scoffed. "What's the worst thing she can do?"
    Shake her head. Roll her eyes. Call me names.
    "Oh, I almost forgot." Roxann twisted and lifted the box lid. "Here's your crown. And your life list."
    Angora set the crown on her head, comforted, as always, by its weight. Then she unfolded the sheets of paper with shaky hands. "Everything seemed much simpler when we made these lists."
    "Everything was much simpler."
    "Have you ever wished you could turn back time?" she whispered through a haze of tears.
    Roxann averted her eyes. "There are some things I would do differently, sure."
    Angora looked toward the house. Even from this distance, she could see that Dee was tapping her foot. "Will you come in with me, Roxann?"
    "I don't think—"
    "Just for a few minutes. She won't go completely berserk if you're with me. Please?" She wasn't above giving her cousin the pitiful look that had won her over in the past.
    Roxann sighed. "Just for a few minutes."
    "I owe you one." At her cousin's pensive expression, she wondered if Roxann was remembering another pact they'd made. They owed each other.
    After a deep breath, Angora gathered her soiled gown and slid down from the vinyl seat. She felt ridiculous wearing men's sweatpants and high heels, but she forged ahead, up the elaborate stone sidewalk, toward her fuming mother. As always, some small part of her still harbored the hope that Dee would throw her arms wide and offer her comfort. But when Angora was within arm's reach, her mother spun on her feathered mules and marched into the house. Angora had no choice but to follow. Roxann was a few steps behind.
    Dee glided into the parlor, then turned for dramatic effect, fabric fluttering. "Well?"
    "Well, what?" Angora asked.
    "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"
    "Um...I'm sorry for being jilted at the altar?"
    "Don't be smart, young lady. You left me and your father in an extremely awkward situation, running off like that with—" She glared at Roxann. "With her . Really. And Roxann, what a waste of your good education you've turned out to be."
    Roxann said nothing, only blinked lazily and offered up a small smile.
    The disappointment in Dee's eyes when she looked at Roxann—it was so intense, like the disappointment of a mother looking at a disobedient but favorite child. Angora had always suspected that deep down Dee had wished she'd given birth to Roxann, the smart one, and, in truth, the one with more natural beauty. The fact that Roxann chose not to enhance her looks had been a curious obsession of Dee's.
    "I’m sorry for leaving so abruptly, Mother," Angora murmured. "I just