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           ThisisbetterthanMarla,whogoestoLaundromatstostealjeansoutofthedryersandsellthemattwelvedollarsapairtothoseplacesthatbuyusedjeans. Tylerneverateinrestaurants,andMarlawasn’twrinkled. 

           Fornoapparentreason,TylersentMarla’smotherafifteen-poundboxofchocolates. 

           AnotherwaythisSaturdaynightcouldbeworse,TylertellsmeintheImpala,isthebrownreclusespider. Whenitbitesyou,itinjectsnotjustavenombutadigestiveenzymeoracidthatdissolvesthetissuearoundthebite,literallymeltingyourarmoryourlegoryourface. Tylerwashidingouttonightwhenthisallstarted. Marlashowedupatthehouse. Withoutevenknocking,Marlaleansinsidethefrontdoorandshouts, "Knock,knock." 

           I’mreadingReader’sDigestinthekitchen. Iamtotallynonplussed. 

           Marlayells, "Tyler.CanIcomein?Areyouhome?" 

           Iyell,Tyler’snothome. 

           Marlayells, "Don’tbemean." 

           Bynow,I’matthefrontdoor. Marla’sstandinginthefoyerwithaFederalExpressovernightpackage,andsays, "Ineededtoputsomethinginyourfreezer." 

           Idogherheelsonthewaytothekitchen,saying,no. 

           No. 

           No. 

           No. 

           Sheisnotgoingtostartkeepingherjunkinthishouse. 

           "ButPumpkin,"Marlasays,"Idon’thaveafreezeratthehotel,andyousaidIcould." 

           No,Ididnot. 

           ThelastthingIwantisMarlamovingin,onepieceofcrapatatime.