The Reluctant Cinderella by Christine Rimmer

least, she’d told the truth and accepted the consequences.
    Megan picked up the phone—and hesitated. She always tried to avoid bothering her sister at work. It was a small office and Angela was always on the go there. But hey, this was a special circumstance. She started to dial—and then thought of poor Carly.
    Sitting in that big house all by herself. Who was Carly going to call at an awful time like this? For Megan, there was and always would be Angela’s strong shoulder to cry on, Angela right there with her, to help her decide what to do next.
    Who did Carly have? According to Greg, she was estranged from her family. And in the neighborhood, except with Megan, Greg’s ex-wife always tried to put on a brave face.
    How bad off was Carly right now? She’d been in an emotional tailspin for months. Could the news Megan had just dumped on her be enough to put her over the edge in the most final kind of way?
    Oh, no. Impossible. Carly wouldn’t…
    But then again, what if she did?
    Oh, God. What if she did?
    Someone, Megan realized, ought to check on Carly and make sure she was okay. Someone should hold her hand, provide a listening ear and a big box of tissues. Megan would do it, if she herself didn’t happen to be the problem.
    Yes, she was fully aware that Angela would advise her to leave it alone. And Angela would probably be right.
    But Megan just couldn’t let it be. She felt too…responsible.
    So she started dialing. She began with sweet Mrs. Fulton across the street. Sylvia was the wise and understanding grandmotherly type, the perfect neighbor to come calling when a woman’s life and hopes and fading dreams came crashing down around her.
    But Sylvia wasn’t at home. Megan hung up without leaving a message. What could she say? Hi, Sylvia. When you get this message, could you go check on Carly and make sure she’s not slitting her wrists or anything?
    Uh-uh. Bad idea.
    Marti Vincente, maybe? But again, no one answered. Marti and Ed were probably already at the restaurant for the day.
    Next, Megan tried Jack Lever’s house in hopes that Zooey, the widower’s live-in nanny, might be around to run over to Carly’s. No answer at the Levers’, either.
    Who next? Irene Dare? Rhonda Johnson? God forbid—wait. What about Rebecca Peters?
    Megan looked up the number and tried it. But Rebecca didn’t pick up.
    Molly Jackson? Molly was a total career person. Megan really didn’t expect to catch her at home, but was just worried enough to give her a try.
    And what do you know? After two rings, Molly answered, “Hello?” Megan, who suddenly realized she had no idea where to begin, only gulped. And Molly demanded, “Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?”
    â€œUh. Hi, Molly. It’s Megan. Megan Schumacher? I…well, I guess I didn’t expect to get lucky and find you home….”
    Molly cleared her throat and replied just a tad defensively, “I was feeling a little under the weather this morning, that’s all.”
    Megan remembered the incident in the powder room during the block party last month. Wow. Did Molly have some awful disease or something? “Oh, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered—”
    â€œIt’s perfectly all right. I’m much better now.”
    â€œBut if you’re sick—”
    â€œI’m not,” Molly said with finality. “As a matter of fact, I was just thinking I’d pull it together and go to work. And I will. Soon. But what can I do for you?”
    â€œI…have a big favor to ask of you.”
    â€œWhatever I can do.”
    â€œIt’s about…oh, I don’t even know where to start….”
    Molly laughed. “I have days like that. Way too many of them lately. Days like today, as a matter of fact…and come on. Hit me with it. As I said, I’ll do what I can.”
    â€œThanks,” Megan said. “Ahem. Well.