“My family?” she said, her eyebrows as high up as they could go. “What do they have to do with this?”

Nick put on one of his favorite expressions, concerned intelligence. “Your parents and I are worried about you, especially now that you’re so far away. What if . . . things get hard again?”

Laura snorted. “Nick, I’m fine. I’ve been fine for over a year. Ever since I made the decision to do this, in fact.”

Nick shook his head. “Did you get a car yet?”

Laura felt her face flush. “No, but I’m working on it. The buses are fine. Why is everyone obsessed with me getting a car? Is it really that important? Aren’t we supposed to be saving the planet?” She sighed. “I’m sorry you guys don’t like my choices, but I do, and as I’m the one who has to live with the consequences of those choices, there’s really nothing else to talk about.”

Nick assumed a wounded expression. “Pussycat, we care about you, that’s all. You’ve been through a lot, you shouldn’t be making big decisions like this.”

“Nick,” said Laura sharply, “I made my decision. The fact that you don’t approve of it doesn’t stop it from being made.” She stepped back and reached for her bedroom door. “Another decision I made was not to waste any more time rehashing conversations more than once. Conversations like this one.” She swung the door open, and smiled politely. “I assume you have a hotel room somewhere?”

Nick wasn’t happy, and for a second Laura thought he was going to lose his temper. She’d never given him reason to lose it until recently, having basically gone along with everything he wanted, and she’d been surprised by how little he enjoyed being resisted. Now he was looking at her as if deciding whether to blow his top or keep his powder dry for another day. She got ready to stand her ground, but Nick shook his head and got to his feet.

“I don’t, actually, because I thought I’d stay with you, one of my oldest friends, but it’s a big city, as you pointed out.” He gave Laura a brief and neutral smile. “It’s late, why don’t we talk about this tomorrow?”

Laura stepped back to give him room and lowered her voice. “We’ve got nothing . . .”

There was the sound of a body hitting a solid object, and the front door opened in a hurry. Polly, Asher, Libby, and Anna piled through in a cavalcade of color, sound, and motion. They spotted Laura standing in her doorway and burst into spontaneous applause.

“There she is . . . Miss America . . .” Libby started singing, surprising everyone with a pleasant and tuneful baritone.