“Alavita Hodges.”
Abi paused. “Really?”
“Really,” I said.
She sighed and put her knitting down. “I’ve always admired Alavita Hodges. She always manages to get the tea.”
I told her about my conversation with the television host and the upcoming New York trip with Busy Mom Cosmetics. “Do you think that might be enough for Rachel to forgive me for missing her birthday dinner? I mean, obviously, I want you to go, too.”
Abi froze, then paused as if measuring her words. “Look, Vivian, you’re going through a lot right now. We’re not mad at you.”
“Just disappointed?”
She grinned. “Yes, we are thoroughly disappointed because we missed your company.”
We chatted awhile longer. When Abi checked her watch, I knew I wasn’t the only one wondering where Rachel could possibly be.
I looked up to see her trudging—not speed-walking—to the cul-de-sac, sans chair and bottle. That didn’t bode well.
Was that a plastic shower cap over her hair?
“Um, Rachel?”
“I can’t come out to play tonight after all.” She was trying to put a brave face on the matter, but she looked ready to burst into tears.
“Oh no. What’s wrong?”
She took a deep breath and looked down at her feet. Whatever she mumbled, neither Abi nor I could understand. We looked at each other and then back at Rachel.
“Could you say that again?”
“I have lice!” She yelled it so loudly that it bounced off the other houses and came back to us. “Hair pets! Scourge of kindergarten and preschool teachers everywhere. And on my birthday weekend, too!”
“I’m out,” Abi said. “Y’all know how I feel about bugs. Rain check!”
“So you’ll put that stuff in your hair, and you’ll be fine,” I said.
Okay, so my first thought was actually,Would you mind taking a nap with your head on my husband’s pillow?But I stifled those thoughts.
Rachel burst into tears. At first I hugged her with my eyes so I could stay where I was sitting, but I finally stood up and put my hands on her upper arms. “It’s not that bad.”
“It is! I’m using one of those home treatment kits, but David’s going to have to pick the nits, and he’s not detail oriented at all. And as blind as a bat at that!”
“I know someone who is detail oriented and who has at least average eyesight.”
“Who?”
“Why, me.”
“Oh, Vivian. I couldn’t possibly ask you to do this.”
“Maybe we could be even for my forgetting about your birthday dinner last night?”
“I think this would tip the scales to you on the favor meter.”
“Well, then I’ll make a video about getting my Nitpicker Badge.”
Rachel opened her mouth to protest, but I held up a hand. “No mentioning your name. I’ll just do a video of myself.”
