“Come on.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her along. “Flippin’ crazy to be shopping anywhere on Rodeo, anyway. Buy me dinner. That’s an okay birthday present.”

“No, I need to think larger,” Bette said so reflectively that I wasn’t sure whether she was talking about me or Tina. We walked in silence for a while.

“She isn’t even returning my phone calls,” Bette said quietly, in a tone that suggested this was some big secret and there were spies all around listening in. “I don’t know where she was raised, but in polite circles, phone calls are returned, no matter what the intent.”

I nodded and hummed in agreement.

“What do you think that’s about?”

I stared at her blankly. It seemed fairly obvious what Tina was doing. There was no ignoring the fact that she’d stopped in at The Planet while Bette and I were having coffee there yesterday-she’d gone to the counter, picked up a coffee, and left. A perfectly innocent event, sure, unless you factor in the fact that The Planet is a little out of the way of Tina’s apartment (I’m told) and job (I’m told) and she knows that Bette’s there a lot.

I wasn’t surprised that Bette didn’t know what Tina was doing. It’s difficult for someone who’s never been manipulated to recognize that she’s being manipulated, but usually Bette was smarter than this.

I wasn’t saying anything, though.

Bette sighed. “Let’s go to Neiman Marcus.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are not buying my birthday present there.”

She scoffed. “Not for you, for me. Clothes make me feel better. Come on.”

***

The night before my birthday, I got the strangest visitor ever. I had just stepped out of the shower, when the intercom buzzed. Imagine my surprise when I asked who it was and the answer was:

“Kit Porter.”

I gaped at the intercom, which could not gape back because it was an inanimate object. I gave it a moment or two and then Kit said something else. “I hope you remember me.”

“Of course I do,” I replied and then shrugged. “Come on up.” I buzzed her in.