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on a corner of my desk, moving papers aside and making herself at home. I didn't mind. That was Alix - why sit on a chair if there was a desk? Why walk if you could run? I loved her exuberance, her loyalty and her frequently unconventional behavior.

I poured her a mug and felt slightly guilty because it looked so dark. I hoped it wasn't bitter.

"So Brad came to see you," she said, unable to hide her curiosity, after all.

In retrospect, my attitude toward him seemed coldhearted. Unkind. Part of me wanted to call him back, to begin the conversation all over again. I wouldn't, though. Leaving things as they were was for the best. "Lydia?" Alix asked. She reached out to touch me.

I nodded. "Yes, he did."

"Anything happening?" Although she'd brought the eclairs for me, Alix scooped one off the plate and took a bite. When the custard filling oozed out from the sides, she grabbed a tissue from the box on my desk.

"Nothing really. How about with you and Jordan?"

Alix raised her eyebrows. "You're changing the subject." She picked up the plate and offered me an eclair.

I didn't need a second invitation. "I know. I don't want to talk about Brad, that's all."

"He doesn't want to talk about you, either," Alix informed me. "He makes a delivery to the cafe every now and then, and he's his old chatty self until I mention your name. Then he shuts up tighter than a coffin."

I didn't like the image. "We both have our reasons."

"So it seems." She hopped down from the desk. "Gotta go. Jordan and I are seeing a movie with the youth group tonight. I just thought I'd come over and say hello."

"I'm glad you did," I said. I walked her to the door, unlocking it and letting her out. As soon as she was gone, I relocked the door, found Whiskers waiting for me and headed up the stairs to my apartment - first remembering to turn off the lights and retrieve Alix's plate. I could've been having a drink with Brad, I mused nostalgically, but for emotional protection, I'd decided on my own company. I'd spend the night with my television, my cat and my eclairs.

Whiskers meowed as though to remind me I wasn't alone. He was absolutely right.

CHAPTER 36

BETHANNE HAMLIN

Bethanne had three parties scheduled that week and she'd carefully gone over the budget for each. Finances would be tight until her alimony check arrived and she received full payment for the parties. Paying for all her supplies out of her dwindling checking account meant she'd have very little cash until the weekend, which meant, in turn, that she'd have to delay buying groceries. She didn't dare use her VISA to buy party stuff; she'd reached her credit limit. Still, she could manage until she deposited the various checks. The problem was, she found herself writing checks and hoping they wouldn't clear for a few days. It was a complicated balancing act, since her expenses still exceeded her income.

Unfortunately, Annie and Andrew constantly needed money for one thing or another. Their school expenses were legitimate and she couldn't defer them. These amounts, plus household bills and business costs - a balancing act, indeed.

The phone rang, and although she hoped it was another party booking, Caller ID showed that it was her bank. She grabbed the receiver, praying that somehow the loan officer had recognized the error of his ways and was calling to offer her a loan.

A few years ago, Grant had taken her to Vegas and they'd brought travelers' checks that equaled more than what she wanted to borrow now. Vegas? The trip was a complete surprise and Bethanne had been so pleased and excited. In light of what she'd learned since, she suspected Grant had arranged it out of guilt.

"Hello," she answered in her most cheerful voice. "This is Bethanne."

Her smile quickly died as the bank manager explained that a check she'd written to the local service station had bounced. In the past, the bank had provided overdraft protection, for a fee, to cover small amounts, but wouldn't any longer. In addition, the service station charged a seventy-five-dollar fee for bounced checks.

"Seventy-five dollars," she cried, outraged at the unnecessary expense. "You've got to be kidding!"

"I assure you I'm not."

"How...much is this going to cost me?" A tank of gas was normally about twenty-five dollars; now there were bank fees, penalties and the seventy-five bucks the service station had heaped on.

The total was staggering.