“No need to panic,” said Maggie mildly. “We’re all good.” She pulled open a nearby kitchen drawer and hunted for a rubber band. She handed it to Polly, who secured the braid and smiled her thanks.

“The garden wall fell down,” said Asher, “so I’m not sure if Bob would say we’re good. His tomatoes got completely squashed.” He noticed how flushed she was—was it possible she had literally run all the way home? Where had she been? Maybe she’d been with some guy who’d made her look so pink, and it had nothing to do with coming home. He looked away. She was too pretty to look at; it was overwhelming.

Polly’s eyes widened. “Really? We should totally make spaghetti sauce!” She laughed. “What a pity he wasn’t growing avocadoes, we could have had guacamole.”

“Or lemons,” said Asher. “We could have had lemonade.”

Polly stopped laughing and frowned at him. “Lemons grow on trees. The wall wouldn’t have squashed them.”

He frowned back. “The lemons might have been shaken out of the tree. Plus,” he added, “avocadoes also grow on trees.”

“They do?”

“How can you be a native Californian and not know that?”

Maggie had been looking back and forth, and now she interrupted. “Guys, the tomatoes were crushed into the ground, so I doubt they’re edible.” She leaned the broom against the sink, and walked toward the garden doors. “However, it’s a valid point, so I’m going to go see if anything was salvageable.” She left, muttering, “You guys continue bickering if you must.”

“I wasn’t bickering,” said Polly to her back.

“Nor was I,” added Asher, affronted. He turned to look at Polly. “Although, really, what did you think avocadoes grew on, bushes?”

She tossed her head airily. “No, I assumed they grew on vines, like bunches of grapes. I’m an actress, not a farmer.”

“I thought you worked at the bookstore?” asked Asher.

“I do,” replied Polly. “I can do more than one thing at a time.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” said Asher, starting to feel the conversation sliding away from him. So pretty, but so cranky.

“I didn’t say you said I couldn’t, I simply said I could.”

They both paused.

“Well,” said Asher, “fine then.”

“Fine,” agreed Polly. Then she headed outside.

•   •   •

Polly had indeed been with friends when the earthquake struck, and all of them had paused their conversation and waited for it to end. Once it was over they were ready to keep talking, but Polly felt worried and made her apologies. She knew it wasn’t a bad earthquake and she could simply have called, but she didn’t. She leapt into her little orange car and zoomed home.