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love you.”
    “I love you, too, Kelsey.”
    I hung up and sank into the overstuffed chair in the living room. The space held a mismatch of furniture, all of it familiar and well-loved. The chair I sat in was neon blue and belonged to Angelica. I had found the futon at a yard sale, and it had a lumpy mattress covered in bright purple faux suede. The battered coffee table had come from the dumpster outside the apartment building. The nicest piece of furniture in the living room was the wooden rocking chair that Angelica’s grandfather had made, and the newest was the red beanbag. Mom had never visited me here or even seen pictures; if she had, she would have been appalled. Mom believed an attractive interior environment vital to mental well-being.
    After my father disappeared, my mother lost some of her energy and happiness. As a kid, I noticed the change, and when Mom came to me for comfort and kind words or asked me to stay with her rather than go to a friend’s birthday party, I complied. It made me feel grown-up and useful that she needed me so much. As I grew older and experienced my own sorrows and let downs, Mom wasn’t really there for me. When I tried to talk to her about Daddy or about my own problems, she would change the subject to her own troubles or loneliness, or act as though she hadn’t heard what I was saying to her. As far as Mom was concerned, I didn’t have any real problems and to act as though I did seemed selfish and childish. She had lost her husband; she had raised her strange, slightly crazy daughter alone; she no longer had the energy or the time to worry about what I needed or wanted. So I had stopped sharing anything personal with her. I learned to handle life’s tribulations and stresses on my own. I had managed just fine, and that wasn’t going to change just because some crazy cop was pretending to channel my dead boss.
    A loud knock made me jump with fear.
    Angelica bounced when I opened the door, fists up like a boxer. “I just got out of box aerobics class.” She smiled, her hair jutting out from the sides of her head in two thick, blond ponytails. “I left my keys here.”
    I grinned. “Sounds like fun.”
    She dropped her fighter stance and walked in. “I’m just going to shower and then I’m taking you out to dinner and dancing.”
    “I don’t really feel like it tonight, Ang.”
    “Don’t care,” she said, dropping into a chair at the kitchen table. “I’m in need of a night out in a bad, bad way.”
    I sat down across from her. “What’s wrong? It’s only been a few days since we went out, so I know it can’t be withdrawal.”
    “No, no. I’m totally crushing on this dude, and he finally asked me out, but I had to tell him no.”
    “What? Why?”
    She wrinkled her nose. “He’s one of Isabella’s castoffs.”
    I smiled, then laughed, unable to stop myself. “If you let that stop you, you’re going to be single a long time. According to her, she’s slept with every good-looking guy in town.”
    “It doesn’t matter. It’s still skanky.”
    I had never had girlfriends before so I didn’t know all of the rules and nuances like Angelica did. “In that case, I can’t possibly refuse taking you out tonight, but wouldn’t it be better to stay in and avoid running into him?”
    “No, I need to find someone to help me forget about him. I don’t believe all of Isabella’s stories. There are definitely a few guys left she hasn’t slept with.”
    “So how do you know that this guy…”
    “I saw them out together a few times last fall and there’s no way Isabella just hung out with him.” She sighed. “I just can’t get past it, you know. It’s not even like I’m that close to Isabella, but I’ve known her for five years and, well, ewww…you know?”
    “Yeah, that sucks. Okay, get that shower, and let’s get out of here.”
    Angelica slumped and shook her head. “The thing is, I just like him so much, you know. You remember the night when we