We both started when Candace’s phone jangled “Sweet Thing,” a Keith Urban song she adored.

“Must be the job calling at this hour,” she mumbled before she answered. But she didn’t even get to say hello before I heard a frantic female voice on the other end. Candace listened, rolled her eyes, listened some more. Finally she said, “Robin, calm yourself. I understand this is important to you, so I assume you’ve called the station?”

Robin’s voice bordered on shrieky when she started up again. I heard Candace inhale deeply and let the air out slowly. After she listened again for several seconds, she said, “What you were told is true. The night-duty crew has the whole town to cover, and if they say they can’t get there-”

More agitation spewed from Candace’s phone, and she held it away from her ear. After she let Robin go on for another fifteen seconds or so, Candace said, “How’s this? I’ll come by a little after six. That’s as soon as I can get there. We’ll have plenty of time to figure this out before little Jack leaves for school.”

When Robin spoke this time, she must have been relieved by this offer, because I couldn’t hear her response. Seconds later, Candace closed her phone.

“You could leave now if someone needs you,” I said. “I’ve got a handle on the kittens.”

She held up one finger, her jaw tight. “First off, the last thing I want to do is deal with this now.” Another finger went up. “Second problem. I don’t have a ride because a certain someone by the name of Jillian Hart wouldn’t let me do the driving tonight.”

“Oh. I forgot about that,” I said. Candace drove like she and Danica Patrick were sisters, so I do the driving when we go anywhere together. “Who’s Robin?”