“Oh, my dear! You dropped your hair curler thingy! Dear!” I stop dead in my tracks and look down at the suitcase I’m struggling to haul behind me. The back pocket is unzipped just enough, and Mrs. Danforth—my best friend’s grandmother—is calling to me in her sing-song voice, holding my teal blue vibrator in the air as she chases me down through the Car Depot lobby.
