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bony teenager who couldn’t possibly have been spawned in the gene pool with anyone related to Savannah.
    Rather than the dark-haired, voluptuous beauty she had been the last time Atlanta had visited, this girl was painfully thin, with sunken cheeks and ribs showing beneath her midriff-cropped stretchy shirt. And her hair, — naturally the same dark chestnut as Savannah’s, was a platinum blond haypile, stacked on her head and held with a dozen glittering, butterfly barrettes.
    Savannah’s heart sank and a queasy feeling hit her stomach with a wallop. The kid was sick! The kid was very sick, maybe even dying! Yes, that had to be it! She had come to California to live out her final days, basking in the healing golden sunlight, listening to the eternal song of the ocean waves and—”
    “Hey, Van, I’m here to compete in a beauty pageant!” the girl shouted, running toward her, guitar case and garment bag fluttering in the breeze. “Isn’t that just the coolest thing?!”
    “Uhhh... yeah... cool.”
    Atlanta gave her an enormous, enthusiastic hug, whacking her on the back with the heavy case and tangling her hair in the bag’s zipper tab. “Are you glad to see me? Are you surprised?”
    “Very glad, sweetie... and surprised.” Savannah placed a kiss on each of her sister’s gaunt cheeks and realized that she was glad to see her... and somewhat amazed that she was so glad. The kid was a pain in the rear end, as Gran had said, but she loved her. She loved all of them; how could she not?
    Atlanta released Savannah and turned to give Tammy a peck on the cheek. “Hey there. You still workin’ for my sister? I figured you would’ve flown the coop by now, no more than she pays you.”
    Tammy received the kiss gracefully and replied with a noncommittal grunt. Savannah was grateful, knowing that Tammy held no deep or abiding affection for any of her siblings who had appeared on her doorstep. Bringing their own bundles of troubles and idiosyncrasies with them, they hadn’t exactly made good impressions on Savannah’s California friends.
    “Let’s get you inside,” Savannah said, as the driver exited the cab and began to unload the trunk. A frightening amount of luggage was being dumped on the driveway, and Savannah started to worry about her impromptu visitor’s Estimated Time of Departure. Savannah didn’t recall moving in that much clothing when she bought the house.
    Picking up as many of the bags as she could handle, she started toward the door, but Atlanta blocked her way. “Oh, yeah... there’s just one thing.” She looked a wee bit embarrassed. “This guy drove me all the way from LAX, and I owe him $145. I was hoping you’d pay him; I’m a little short on cash, you know, after paying for my airline ticket and all.”
    Savannah thought of the meager amount recorded in her checkbook ledger.
    Oh well, she didn’t need electricity or water next month.
    She sighed and trudged to the door, lugging the bags—that must have contained liquid lead—with her. “Let me get my purse,” she said, adding under her breath, “and let me raid the cookie jar... and the piggy bank... and my lingerie drawer stash... and..
    “Oh, yeah, Savannah,” Atlanta called after her with a merry tone that made Savannah consider sister-cide, “my driver’s been a super nice guy; be sure to tip him really good, okay?”

    Ten minutes later, the three women and the 237 pieces of luggage were inside, and the pouting cabby had been dispatched. The fifty-dollar tip had depressed, rather than impressed, him.
    “Gee, Savannah, you’re getting cheap in your old age,” Atlanta told her as she helped herself to a bottle of Tammy’s diet herb tea in the refrigerator. “I mean, that was downright embarrassing, you stiffing him like that”
    Two of Savannah’s three remaining nerves snapped. “Embarrassing? You were humiliated, were you? What if I hadn’t been able to pay him at all? You’d be out there, washing, waxing, and