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shop across the street from the bank. Lights Out Coffee it was called, a small regional chain owned by an ex-boxer and his daughter.
    “I’m ready,” Amber said, and they both walked out of the building. Almost immediately Amber started in on her.
    “So, tell me about Will. Finally, huh?” she said, not waiting for Katrina’s response. “Now aren’t you glad you dressed up. Woo, I can’t tell you how shocked I was to see you, Katrina of all work and no play, kissing a man. Girl, I didn’t even know you even knew what kissing was. And you got him to take you home. Okay, give it up.”
    “Give what up?” Katrina asked.
    “You are not going to make me beg you for details, are you? Really?”
    “Nothing to detail; I drank too much, he took me home. I was all over him; he wasn’t all over me.” She paused, remembering. “Well, he was once, maybe for a second, but he didn’t stay the night and he didn’t take me up on my offer. Let’s see, oh, and a hangover the next day with nothing to show for it. Is that detailed enough for you?”
    “Sorry, but it’s his loss, although I must say that when you finally picked one, you picked a nice one; a beautiful smile and a body to match. Hey, you didn’t tell me he was Asian,” Amber said, stopping so they could cross the street.
    “Why, what difference would that make?” she asked, walking to the door of the coffee shop.
    “I don’t know. It just surprised me, that’s all. I didn’t know you were interested in other races.”
    “I’m not interested in other races. Just Will,” she said.
    “Well, anyway, sorry it didn’t work out the way you wanted. Are you going to try again with him?” she asked.
    “Nope, it was embarrassing enough having him turn me down the first time. I mean, if me served up on a bed all liquored up and loose wasn’t enticing enough, I don’t know what else to do. Anyway, you do know that only 11 percent of men consider finding a life-long partner their top priority,” Katrina said, opening the door, waiting for Amber to enter.
    Amber paused in the doorway and looked at her, shaking her head. “So it’s back to that again. You are something else, you know that, don’t you? You don’t have to quit after your attempt just because you tried something and it didn’t work out as you planned. Don’t go back to your old ways. I was so proud to see you all over him, drunk or not. Don’t stop. Now if we could find you a new target while keeping you from drinking,” she said, walking through the coffee shop door.
    “I wasn’t drunk, just tipsy,” Katrina responded, following her in.
    “Sure you were,” Amber said over her shoulder.
    ***
     
    Katrina entered the doors of the garden center later that week. She was there to attend the monthly meeting of the citywide gardening board; she’d been a member for the last five years. The board met the third Wednesday of every month, east of town, in the oldest of the founding neighborhood gardens.
    “Hey, Gloria,” she called out, speaking to the secretary of the garden board. She was hired help, unlike the rest of them, who were volunteers.
    “Hello, Katrina, how are you?” she answered, stuffing something in a bag, her purse already on her shoulder. She was apparently leaving for the day.
    “Is everyone here?” Katrina asked, not breaking her stride.
    “Yes, the usual suspects and one mighty fine surprise,” she answered, causing Katrina to pause.
    “What?”
    “Not going to tell you; you need to see for yourself. Like a Christmas gift, part of the good feeling comes from taking in what you’ve gotten after you’ve had the pleasure of unwrapping it.”
    Only mildly curious, Katrina said, “Okay,” and started down the hall leading to the conference room where the committee usually met.
    Entering the room, head down, she spotted an empty chair next to Sonja, a representative from one of the predominantly Hispanic parts of town. Six women and three men comprised the