When Kira visited the apartment office, she practically begged Mr. Whipple the landlord, to cash the rent check she’d found for September and then to accept the second check she’d written fresh that morning which included the five-hundred-dollar tip from “Caleb Davenport” to help cover October.

Despite the cash and checks, Mr. Whipple stalled for a bit, trying to look like a tough guy, but eventually he assented and told Kira she could rip up the Eviction Notice.

“Thank you, Mr. Whipple.” As she was leaving, Kira deposited an aluminum foil covered plate with homemade chocolate chip cookies, still warm from the oven, on his desk.

He eyed her over his wire-framed glasses. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

Kira widened her eyes. “Of course not. I baked way more than I can eat so you get the extras.”

“Ever heard of a freezer?”

Kira gave him a smile. “Take them home for your kids.”

“They’re forty years old.”

“Your grand-children, then?”

“That I can do,” he said drily, moving the plate closer. “It did seem odd to me that after a year of on-time rent, you let it go into arrears so badly.”

“Thank you for understanding, Mr. Whipple.”

Before he could lecture her further, Kira scurried out the door. She pulled her jacket collar up close from the chill wind coming down the street, tossing the leaves on the trees surrounding the property.

At least she had something to look forward to besides work the upcoming week. Shopping for a dress on Tuesday. Fingers crossed her mother’s doctor appointment by the end of the week if Doctor Giles could fit them in. And then the High School Reunion the following Friday.

Why had she agreed to go? Kira replayed the conversation in her mind. Had she agreed, or merely nodded in vague acquiescence?

She wondered if some of her old friends from Choir would be there. That would make the evening more palatable. Why was she so reticent? Or was it nerves. The nagging feeling that somehow she was being set up still hanging around.

The worst would be to dress up and go and then Caleb and Troy, and the other guys were no-shows and she’d awkwardly sit with a table of strangers. It had been a large graduating class and she probably didn’t know more than a fraction of them.

“For the moment, I will remain happy that I still have a place to call home,” Kira thought out loud.

When she let herself into her apartment she sat on the sofa with Miss Pixie in her lap while she shot off a group text to all three of her older brothers—all of whom lived out of state; Carl in San Jose, Brad in New Orleans, and Evan in Nebraska working the oil fields.

Thanks for all the help, bros, she wrote with a tad of sarcasm. Dad’s the same. Feeling cooped up, but Mom may be losing her marbles. Taking her to doc next week. Anytime you want to swing by would be great!

A reply from Evan, the brother just three years older, came back quickly. Ha-ha, Kira. Next time I’m in the neighborhood.

Kira: Ha-ha, yourself. I almost lost my apartment due to mom’s negligence. Hey . . . do you ever remember a Caleb Davenport from high school? He would have been in my class.”

Evan: Nope. Didn’t pay attention to the babies below me.

Kira: Don’t get lost in the oil fields. Just bring us home some black gold so we can all retire.

Evan: Sure, I’ll tell my boss to hand over the company to me. Just because you asked nicely.

Kira: Can’t blame me for trying.

A smiley face came back and Kira giggled at her cell phone.

She tossed it onto the couch where the device immediately fell between the cushions.

Her brothers were all married with wives and little ones and she could understand the difficulty of getting time off and the travel expense, but it wasn’t fair that she had all the burden of her ailing parents and their medical and money woes.

“Brothers get off scot free while daughters are assumed to put their own lives on hold and do the work,” she grumbled. Because she had to grumble a little, or else scream. Screaming was out of the question with neighbors only a thin wall away.

Besides, what could they do, really? Mom could still prepare meals, shop, keep house. She wasn’t running around the neighborhood delirious and naked—yet.

Once she was dressed in her Rossi’s uniform, Kira made a PB&J and dug out her phone, pulling up the DREAMS app. “Wonder if they sell fancy dresses?”

She typed in ‘high school reunion dresses’ and snorted. No such category existed, of course. Continuing to laugh at herself, she switched her search to ‘Evening dresses.’

She scrolled through pages and pages of them. Beautiful and unique dresses, actually, in every style, color and size imaginable. And cheap! Her eyes bugged out at the astonishingly good prices.

“Unfortunately, I can’t try them on. I need a virtual dressing room.”

She perused through categories of toys and antique furniture and some very nice chiming grandfather clocks. “DREAMS could be the wave of the future. Why go to a regular store or even Wal-Mart?”

An app would never take the place of people who liked to window shop in real stores. Try on clothes. Size out the furniture. Have lunch out and make it a day.

But she could see why this was a popular site.

The alarm on her phone beeped with her drop-dead time. “And now I’m late.”

Kira gave Miss Pixie a pat on the head before rushing out the door. She nearly got a speeding ticket running through a very orange-y red streetlight, but the police car’s siren remained thankfully silent. A traffic ticket was the last thing she needed.