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all, if Grams liked him, he must be a pretty solid guy. Grams wasn’t known for straying too far from the straight and narrow. She never used to be, anyway. She’d definitely come out of her reserved and proper shell since moving into Blissful Orchards. Maybe it was something they put in the tea.
    There was no point dwelling on it, anyway. I needed to hit the grocery store on the way home. William and I had dinner plans and while I was pretty sure he intended to take me to the same Italian restaurant he always took me to, I wanted something different. A girl could only eat so much pasta. Besides maybe a home-cooked meal would soften the blow when I told him about my changing living arrangements. Despite my earlier plans, I’d already decided not to tell him the truth about my mom. Too many shocks in one night probably wasn’t a good idea.
    Before I could get my keys in the ignition, my phone chirped with a text message.  
    Pedi emerg meet me now
    Kat. Everything was always an emergency with my best friend. I picked up my phone to respond, but before I could, another text came through.
    U R coming! My $$
    I laughed because she knew exactly what my protest would be. Sure, I liked soft soles as much as the next girl, but I couldn’t justify spending forty dollars on them. Especially since I was apparently in such a tight financial situation I needed a roommate. I picked up my phone and tapped a reply.
    Coming. C U in 10

    ***

    I made it to Kat’s favorite nail place in just over ten minutes since I stopped for lattes on the way. I figured if she was going to treat my toes, I’d treat her with a skinny vanilla. I pushed backward through the glass door, and was greeted by the shop owner, who directed me into the back part of the salon where Kat was already soaking her feet in the fancy glass tub.  
    “Oh, thank God you made it,” she said. “I need to choose.” She held up two bottles: one hot pink, one a glittery purple.
    “What are they called?” I always chose my polish based on the cute names on the bottom of the bottles. “Here.” I handed her a cup and took my seat next to her.  
    “You’re a doll,” Kat said, and took a sip. She licked her lips and went back to the polish problem. “This one’s Pump Up The Jam.” She held up the glittery purple bottle.
    “As in, toe jam?” I grabbed a bright blue bottle and admired the fun color. With a sigh, I put it down and picked up a pink shade on the tray next to me, flipped it over, approved, and handed it to the nail technician.
    “Eww, Whitney. No. As in jam. Like jelly.”  
    “Still. What’s the other one?”
    Kat flipped over the bright pink bottle. “Bazinga Berry.”  
    We looked at each other and laughed. “Bazinga Berry,” we said together.
    Kat handed the bottle to her esthetician, who was looking at us as if we might need therapy. “What did you pick?”  
    I cringed and hope she wouldn’t notice. Of course she did. Kat noticed everything. “Pretty in Pink,” I said, and looked away.
    “Oh no!” Kat half stood in her bowl of water and reached for the bottle of pink polish. A wave of scented suds cascaded over the side of the bowl and onto her nail tech’s lap.
    “No standing in the bowl,” the tech chastised her.  
    Kat ignored her and waved my bottle of pastel pink polish around. “You have to be kidding me, Whit. What’s with the wussy pink? It’s so boring. And the name? Ugh.”  
    I reached over and snatched the bottle out of her hand. “It’s not boring, it’s pretty.”  
    “If you’re eight,” Kat said. She fell back against her chair. “Or don’t ever want to have sex again.”
    “I don’t really think the color of my toenails has anything to do with my sex life,” I said. “I’m just trying a more conservative look. I can’t wear open-toed sandals to work if I have Blue My Mind or Screaming O on my toes. It’s not professional.”
    I didn’t bother looking because I knew Kat would be rolling her