I’ve got an even better idea. I’ll call Sheree! My little sister Sheree. Dialing. Dialing. Dialing. The one who has now become public enemy number one. The one who violated my love and trust and who, because of her weakness, has caused me to expend most of my time and all of my energy looking for a husband of my own to masquerade around a room of overweight and overbittered women living an underwhelming life with someone who they themselves were pressured into marrying. CLICK! Wait, I know who I can call. William! I’ll call William. I’d do it for him. I even did it to him. That’s gotta count for something. And besides, William would jump through hoops of fire wearing gasoline drawers if I asked. Dialing. Dialing. Dialing. And since now we’re platonic friends, it’s like calling my brother from another mother. The brother that I never had and always wanted. I just hope he isn’t asleep. He likes watching old movies all night, so he’s probably up. Yeah, he’s up. And since he’s up, I won’t feel as bad asking him to drive an hour away.

“Hello?” Uh oh. He’s not up. He’s got that I-was-having-some-good-sleep voice. “Hello?”

“Yeah, hey! William, it’s me!”

“Me who?” Obviously still groggy.

“You know. Me, silly!”

“Me who?”

“Montana.”

“Montana, do you know what time it is?”

“Yeah, it’s uh, around nine or something, right?”

“Try the ‘or something.’ It’s almost eleven-thirty.”

“Right, right. I thought you’d be up watching a movie or something.”

“I am. It’s a movie starring over a hundred sheep. Here’s the plot. I’m counting them.”

“Oh, so you’re not watching a movie right now?”

“No.”

“Do you want to watch a movie right now?”

“I hadn’t thought about it, but I suppose I could.”

“Great. There’s a twenty-four-hour video store right around the corner from my apartment. Let’s pick up a movie there.”

“I suppose you want me to come pick you up too?”

“Yeah, if that’s not a problem.”

“Oh no, I’ll get out of my warm bed, throw some ice-cold water on my face, and race to my car as the arctic inner harbor air needles through my bones.”

“Cool.”

“I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes. Bye.”

“Wait.”

“What?”

“I’m not at home.”

“Where are you, downtown? Over your mother’s?”

“No. But you’re getting warmer. I’m at the airport.”

“You’re at BWI?”

“No, but you’re getting warmer. I’m at Reagan National. Hello? Hello?” I swear I’m going to get a new cell phone company. I’ve got entirely too much drop out. Dialing. Dialing. Dialing.

“Hello?”