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something more comfortable, I pulled out a roll of cookie dough, nearly eating half while I baked the other, my mind going in all different directions. I really needed to go for a run, but there were probably bears and I was never going to finish those conference plans if I didn’t work on them. Amber was coming in less than twelve hours and would no doubt demand all of my undivided attention. She was going to be so bored here. I could just hear it. Fish? Hailey, really? Fish? Just kill me now.
    The oven dinged, and I set the cookies on the counter, letting them cool before stacking every last one onto a plate. I didn’t need any and Amber wouldn’t touch them. I always did envy her willpower. If only I had a shred of it.
    After pulling on my boots, I walked the cookies over to set them on the porch right beside the bag.
    Both the bag and plate were still sitting on his porch when I woke and looked out the window the next morning. Both still there when I left for the airport. I stopped by and knocked for good measure, but was met with nothing, nada, before I was back in my car, settling in for a nice, long trip.
    My drive to Seattle topped out at four hours twenty minutes. Google Maps said right under four. But between a bathroom break and how hard the rain had started coming down it tacked on a good forty minutes to the trip.
    Not that it mattered. Amber’s plane was delayed an additional two hours because of the weather. I ended up walking around the terminal to help work out the kinks until I got a text that she had landed and was on her way to baggage claim. I heard her squeal before I saw her head bopping up and down in the crowd.
    “Oh, wow. Look at you. You cut your hair.”
    I went to play with the blunt end and she swatted my hand away.
    “Don’t touch it. Don’t look at it. Don’t talk about it,” she warned. “Angie says I have to wait until it grows out at least three inches before she can glue in the extensions. And that’s if I want to look as busted as Britney on her first attempt at a comeback.” Holding her forehead, she bit her lip to keep from crying. “I don’t know what I’m going to do ‘til then. What do I do? Do I embrace it? Do I buy a wig? What do I do? Tell me. What?” She pulled me closer to better see the look of desperation in her eyes.
    “Well.” Patting her hand, I took another look at her hair.
    “I said don’t look at it!”
    Her outburst caused a few people to stop and stare. I grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the middle of the floor and being the center of attention. Her and that hair.
    “Okay, sorry. Jeez. Let’s just grab your bags and get out of here. We’ll buy a bag of Doritos on the way. You’ll drink a Mountain Dew. One with real sugar from the sweet cane of Mexico. I’ll have a diet because calories. And when we get back, we’ll get you good and drunk and we’ll talk about anything you want. Anything at all.” Anything to get her mind off the hair.
    “Okay. It’s the purple ones.” Amber grabbed a purple suitcase, then another. She passed me a third before throwing a duffel over her shoulder.
    I grabbed the hard case she let get away before turning to her and asking, “Just how many bags did you pack?”
    “This is it.”
    “Five? Really, Amber? You packed five bags?” Just how long did she think she was staying?
    “Uh, yeah. One for my lights. One for my heavies. One for my shoes, my hair products.” She briefly pouted. “And another for my makeup.” She pointed to the hard case in my hand. “Why? Don’t you have an extra bag for your makeup?”
    I gave her a look. “My makeup, yeah.”
    “Well then, you get it.” Taking off toward the entrance, she yelled over her shoulder, “Let’s go. My patience is running thin and I’m more than ready for that Mexican Mountain Dew you promised me.”
    The drive back home seemed to last even longer than the drive to pick up Amber. While she filled me in on everything Chicago, I nodded and