CC shoved the unopened bottle of champagne into the fridge.

"Consider yourself on-deck," she told it grimly. Then she grabbed the open bottle of champagne, her half-empty glass, the bucket of KFC and marched purposefully to the living room where she spread out her feast on the coffee table before returning to the kitchen for a handful of napkins. Passing the deceptively silent phone she halted and spun around.

"Oh, no. I'm not done with you; you're coming with me." She tossed the phone next to her on the couch. "Just sit there. I'm keeping an eye on you."

CC picked out another piece of delightfully greasy chicken and clicked on the TV—and groaned. The screen was nothing but static.

"Oh, no! The cable!" Because she would be out of the country for three months, she had decided to have the cable temporarily disconnected and had been proud of herself for being so money conscious. "Not tonight! I told them effective the first of November, not the thirty-first of October." She glanced at the silent phone. "You probably had something to do with this."

And she started to laugh, semihysterically.

"I'm talking to the telephone." She poured herself an-other glass of champagne, noting the bottle was now half empty. Sipping the bubbly liquid thoughtfully, CC spoke aloud, pointedly ignoring the phone. "This obviously calls for emergency measures. Time to break out the Favorite Girl Movies."

Clutching the chicken thigh between her teeth, she wiped her hands on the paper towel before opening the video cabinet that stood next to her television set. Through a full mouth she mumbled the titles as she scanned her stash.