"Why?"

"It's never too early to think about your health."

I clicked over to the other line.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"I know. I have caller ID."

"I know you know. That's why I said 'It's me' rather than my name."

"What's up?" I asked. "It's been a while."

"It certainly has," Petra replied. "Your hair must look like shit."1 "It doesn't look great."

"You should make an appointment."

"I will."

"What are you doing right now?"

"Uh, nothing, come to think of it."

"I'll see you in a half hour," she said.

On my way out of the bar, Connor said, "Where are ya going now?"

"Haircut," I replied.

"Well, don' cut too much off. I like it long."

His instruction, for obvious reasons, didn't sit right with me. I approached the bar and leaned in so Connor would have to mirror my move. Then I could whisper.

"It's my hair, if you haven't noticed. I'll do whatever I want with it."

As I turned to walk away, Connor said in his lightest leprechaun voice, "I'll see ya later, gorgeous."

"Don't wait up!" I shouted over my shoulder. "I have a date tonight."

That would have been a superb exit line if Ex #12 weren't a bartender who frequently returns home just before dawn. No matter how long the date lasted, I'd still be in bed before him.

Connor laughed mockingly and said, "Have a lovely time."

An hour later, as Petra was hacking away at my hair, she finally broke the news to me.

"Gabe and I are engaged."

"Finally," I said.

"We've only been dating six months."

"The 'finally' was in reference to giving me the news, not the length of your courtship."

"You knew?"

"Morty called me right before you."

"Wow. You and the old guy are tight."

"I guess so."

"Are you sure you want it this short?"

"I'm making a statement," I replied.

Petra kept cutting and then there was a lull. This happens when you haven't seen someone in a few months. History counts for only so much. A lull can happen with anyone.

"You must be happy that they're moving back," Petra said.

"Who?" I asked.

"Morty and Ruth."

"They're moving back?"

"He didn't tell you?" Petra asked.

"No," I replied, trying to figure out what scam Morty pulled to make that happen.

"I just heard the news, so it's new. I'm sure he'll tell you any day now."

"Right," I said.

Then Petra started blow-drying my hair, which dried up the conversation.

After being coiffed I returned to my car and tried to mess up my hair enough so that I resembled myself. Then I called Morty, hoping for the scoop. But the call went straight to voice mail. Then I phoned Henry to see if he'd gotten those fingerprint results back. Voice mail again. I decided to drive home and change for my lawyer date that night. While struggling with the decision between donning a conservative skirt and sweater set or that potentially perilous wraparound dress, I phoned David for a pep talk. The lawyer date was putting me in a bad mood and I needed a distraction.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Try saying 'hello' first and then maybe I'll answer the question," David replied.

"Sorry. I've been working on my pleasantries."

"Work harder."

"So how have you been?"

"Good. And you?"

"Fine. I got a haircut today. Petra's engaged. Rumor has it Morty is moving back to the city."

"That was fast," David casually replied.

"Which of the above are you referring to?"

David thought about it. "All three, I guess."

"Do you have an opinion on any of them?"

"Not that I feel like sharing."

"Come to think of it, you rarely feel like sharing."

"Are you calling for a reason," David asked, "or is this just one of those 'Hey, how are you doing?' calls?"

"So, what are you doing?" I asked again, thinking enough time had passed.

"Reading."

"What?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Is it porn? Because if it is, you shouldn't say 'reading.' I think 'looking' would be the more appropriate term."

"It's not porn."

"Hmmm. I can't imagine why you'd want to keep it secret. Is it one of those Pot Roast for the Soul books?"

"No."

"Would you find it in the self-help aisle of your local bookstore?"

"This conversation is nearing its end," David said.

"I can sense that you would like me to switch topics, so I'm going to, because I'm evolving into the kind of person who switches topics when she senses the cue."

"Well done."

"Thank you," I replied, glad for some validation.

"You know that evolution is a constant process, right? Improving yourself doesn't end when you've stopped getting arrested regularly."

"Are you always evolving?" I asked.

"I'd like to think so," David replied.

"How does that work, exactly?" I inquired, not to mock, but out of genuine curiosity.

"It's different for everyone," David replied.

"But since we're related, maybe your method could work on me."

David sighed extra hard, which meant he was done talking with me on this topic. If I wanted to see how David was evolving, or whatever it was he was doing with all his free time, I would have to find another way to unearth that mystery. For now, I changed the subject.

"How's Maggie?" I asked.

"That was a very clumsy transition," David replied.

"I'm also working on my transitions."

"Good."

"So how is Maggie?"

"She's fine."

"She's not under any unnecessary stress?"

"No more than usual."

"Have you noticed any changes in her personality?"

"Why are you asking?"

"I thought maybe Rae or Mom or somebody else was stressing her out."

"Has she seemed stressed to you?" David asked.

"No," I said. And that was the truth.

"I asked her to move in with me. Could that be causing her stress?"

This is when I realized I'd blown it. I had no idea what was causing Maggie stress, but now I was convincing my brother that he was the source of it.

"I'm sure that's not the reason," I said.

"Maybe she's just not prepared for all this," David said.

"You mean prepared for our family?"

"Yes."

"I see," I replied. Then I felt kind of bad. Like David's relationship might run more smoothly if he and Maggie didn't have all of us to contend with. "Forget I asked the question," I said. "I'm sure everything is fine and if she is stressed, I assure you it is Rae's fault."

I've discovered that Rae is the best diagnosis for all stress-related conditions.