Got Your Number

and her mouth loose—she was on something, probably one of those "performance enhancers" she bought from a guy named Sid who buzzed the Biloxi Y in a Firebird. "Elise, you dropped off the face of the earth—Tom is going crazy wondering where you are."
    Elise started cracking her knuckles one at a time—a nervous habit that had always driven Roxann nuts. The woman's hands were enormous. "I just couldn't take it anymore, Roxann. Dealing with all those people, all those problems. I know I should call Tom. I will. I really will." Her gaze darted all around, and she was still cracking.
    "Where are you living?" Roxann asked.
    "In Biloxi, with a friend I met over the Internet."
    Surprise, surprise. "How long have you been here in South Bend?"
    "Since Saturday. I ran a marathon to raise money for the new counseling center." Now she was cracking her neck—repeatedly.
    "Elise, someone broke into the duplex Friday. Do you know anything about it?"
    "No. No, I don't." But without eye contact, she couldn't tell if the woman was being truthful. "Roxann, I'm sorry about the way I handled...things."
    "Neither one of us handled the situation well," Roxann said carefully.
    Elise shifted from foot to foot, bouncing on the toes of her running shoes. "I realized that the reason I've been so unhappy all these years is because of a relationship I had in college that I never quite got over."
    Get in line.
    "But I'm working through things," she said, nodding with shaky confidence. Suddenly she laughed, a wild, artificial noise. "Too bad that counseling center wasn't here ten years ago." She started to shiver, and rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
    Roxann slipped off her jacket and hung it over the woman's shoulders. "Elise, you don't look well—let's walk down to the clinic."
    "No!" She yanked off the coat. "I'm f-fine, I just need to finish my run." She jogged away a few paces, then turned around as if she suddenly remembered Roxann was still standing there. "I hope we can be friends someday," she shouted. Then she jogged away, and not in a straight line.
    She watched Elise until she was out of sight to make sure she didn't run out into the street, or collapse. Another lost soul, with an affinity for self-destruction. Or just plain destruction?
    Roxann went in search of a water fountain, and spotted Angora lounging on a bench, sharing her potato chips with the pigeons. She'd been crying. "How was it?" she mumbled.
    "How was what?"
    "Dr. Seger. Did you do it on his desk?"
    "Are you insane? Of course we didn't!"
    Angora tossed the foil bag into a nearby garbage can and licked her fingers. "The way you were fawning all over him, I wouldn't have been surprised."
    Roxann frowned. "That's not true, and that's not fair. What's wrong with you?"
    Angora leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and stared at the ground. "What's wrong with me? I'm supposed to be on my honeymoon right now."
    Roxann's heart squeezed for her and she sat down. "You'll love Chicago. And a year from now you won't even remember Trenton's name."
    "I can't go to Chicago," Angora sobbed. "I'm not qualified to work for that art agency. I wouldn't last a week."
    "They wouldn't have offered you the job if you weren't qualified."
    "I only got the job because I graduated from Notre Dame."
    "I don't think you give yourself enough credit."
    She wiped her cheeks. "No. Mother is right—Trenton was my best chance for a good life, and I let him get away."
    "Well, I hate to tell you this, but I think he sort of cut bait all on his own."
    "I might as well join a convent."
    "They don't have laundry rooms in convents."
    Angora finally cracked a tiny smile. "I wish I were you."
    Roxann sighed. "I wish you were me, too. But we're sort of stuck with ourselves, aren't we?" Then she stood and jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "If you're ready to go, I need to rinse my tie-dyed shirt to wear to the auction tonight."
    Angora sprang up and began walking back the way they'd come. "You are not wearing that shirt tonight."
    Roxann smiled into her hand. "Wait up."

Chapter Fifteen

    ANGORA SWALLOWED a half-glass of wine in one drink. Intermission. Six bachelors down, and not one worthy of her virginity. Not one held a candle to Dr. Carl Seger. She cast a sideways glance at Roxann and tightened the grip on her glass—why did all things come so easily for her cousin? She had been the one who loved Dr. Carl from a distance for the better part of her time at the university. She had been