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me to the other side and back again. “But if she doesn’t show up, if she can’t—for whatever messed-up reason that allows her to stay away knowing everything you’ve been through, everything you will have to endure without her—then you just tell me, Miss Lovely Lu, you just tell me what the fuck difference it makes.”
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    In the name of action, Eden and I put on our pragmatic hats. She pulls a pen and her little quote notebook from her pocket and we come up with a list.
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STEP ONE: Answer Shane’s text and go to that job interview at Fred’s tomorrow even though it’s really, really scary.
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STEP TWO: Eden will watch Wrenny for me two days a week at my house if I get it, so that I can go to said job. She will pretend she’s at ballet for extra days. Four hundred dollars a week should do it. Barely, but it will make a big difference.
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STEP THREE: Pay the bills one at a time, in order of importance. Strangely, cell phone and cable are at the top. Well, after electric.
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STEP FOUR: Go to school and make sure Wrenny goes to school and does homework so that no one gets suspicious.
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STEP FIVE: Smile some.
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    Eden writes this, makes a loopy smiley face, rips the page from her notebook, and stuffs the list into my hand.
    â€œThat’s a start,” she says. Looks at me sly.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œNo, what?”
    â€œI’m just trying to picture you in short shorts.”
    â€œShut up,” I say.
    â€œI don’t think overalls are on the menu at Fred’s.”
    â€œOh my gosh.”
    â€œOr saying ‘Oh my gosh.’”
    â€œOh my gosh!”
    â€œYou’re going to need a makeover.”
    â€œShut up.”
    â€œAnd to expand your vocabulary,” she says. “‘Shut up’ and ‘Oh my gosh’ aren’t going to cut it. Work on ‘Hey there, mister, how do you like your taco? Soft? Or hard?’” She says “hard” so sick. Pushes her chest forward and shakes.
    â€œEw!” I say, and we are laughing so much. Then I think out loud. “He’ll never hire me.”
    â€œOh yes he will,” she says. “You have a thing—you just have layers on you.” She flits her leg out across my face like she does. “You’ll have to take. Them. Off.” Gets serious. “Just pretend you’re a theater geek and it’s a school play or something.” This is a preposterous notion. The strength of a thousand Mr. Universes could not persuade me to the stage.
    â€œAnyway, you’re not eight anymore,” she says, glowing mischief into the black. “Buy some lip gloss, for crying out loud.”

Day 28
    â€œSo what did I say?” Eden grills me.
    We are in front of Fred’s right at the edge of town, sitting in Mom’s car. I am here for my interview, trying to steal a glimpse through the rectangular building’s reflective windows to no avail. Eden is biting her thumb, which means she’s worried.
    â€œYou told me to be brave,” I tell her so she knows I remember her instructions.
    â€œRight.” Eden acts like this is all I will need if I can just hear it clearly enough. “‘Be bold and mighty forces will come to your aid.’” Peers at me. “That’s a good one, you know. You should commit it to memory.”
    â€œOkay,” I say. “But I don’t want you to be disappointed if I don’t get it.”
    â€œStop. You’ll get it. You look great.” She picks at my V-neck T-shirt, pulls it down at the front. I pull it back up. “You have to show a little body. Just a little. Mini-cleavage.”
    â€œOkay.” I pull the shirt back down some.
    â€œYou look like Mom,” Wrenny says.
    â€œI borrowed from her closet.”
    â€œThat’s not why,” Wren says, and I feel funny.
    â€œAll right, little girl,” Eden says, throwing