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and his wife, Candice, who’s a registered nurse. They both seem very professional. Dr. Winder does a complete medical history and examination, then orders whatever tests he feels are necessary to make sure the client won’t have any ill effects from the program, which is quite strict and rigorous. Then Candice or another staff member meets daily with the client to monitor urine samples and blood pressure.”
    “How much does this attention cost?”
    Joanie tried to look nonchalant. “That’s determined by the length of the program and the desired weightloss goal.”
    “In Maribeth’s case?” I said, unimpressed.
    “With the initial examination, the required EKG and blood work, the daily vitamins and potassium supplements, the protein packets, and the weekly behavior modification classes?”
    “With all of the above. How much?”
    “Oh, Candice estimated somewhere in the range of six to seven hundred dollars, but the program is guaranteed as long as the client doesn’t cheat.”
    I had to grab the edge of the counter to steady myself. “Seven hundred dollars? You’ve got to be kidding.”
    “And fifteen a week for the exercise classes at the fitness center next door,” she added with a wince. “I was a little appalled, myself, but I’m committed to helping Maribeth, and I’ll write you a check so that you can advance the money to her. Her appointment is tomorrow at four-thirty.”

    “Why are you so positive she’ll agree to any of this? I told you that she wasn’t exactly overcome with delight at the idea.”
    “Because I called to tell her I’d signed her up and that the only way she could pay Ultima was to take the part-time job here. I may have mentioned something about collection agencies and small claims court if she failed to honor the contract.”
    “Nothing you signed is binding on her. Maribeth may have panicked, but Gerald’s a lawyer and he’s not going to fall for an idiotic play like that.”
    “I don’t think,” she said pensively, “that she fell for it, either. I think she pretended to in order to allow someone to make the decision for her, to remove the responsibility from her and perhaps divert some of Gerald’s displeasure. In any case, once I take her there tomorrow, she’ll sign a new contract and have no choice.”
    “I hope you don’t ever decide to take me under your wing. You’re not a mother hen—you’re a turkey vulture.”
    “How inordinately kind of you,” she said, then slid off the stool and left, her expression resembling that of a particular vulpine cop.
    When I arrived home I found Caron and Inez huddled over the blender. The table was littered with an amazing number of ingredients, including a milk carton, eggshells, several small bottles, and the cocoa tin. I left them to watch their potion spin and was lounging in the bath when Caron called through the door that they were going to a pep rally at school.
    Caron made it back at a reasonable hour, announced she was totally swamped with mindless geography homework because Coach Dooley was a
tyrant without enough brains to prepare lesson plans and therefore assigned pages and pages of dumb things just so the students could correct them in class. I made sympathetic noises and was rewarded with a peaceful evening while she hid out in her bedroom. Grousing on the telephone with Inez, naturally.
    The following afternoon, Joanie delivered Maribeth to the store and reminded her of the four-thirty appointment at Ultima. I gave Maribeth a quick tour, showing her how the cash register worked and where to record orders if a book was not in stock. Neither of us mentioned Gerald, and I left her standing behind the counter, her face bleak for someone making at least five times as much an hour as I did.
    Joanie returned at four and whisked Maribeth away to commit to a seven-hundred-dollar contract and the cheery prospect of months of inedible greenery, potassium supplements, and daily urine samples. Minutes later Caron