They had put a deposit on one, but it was quickly returned, as their incomes didn't qualify them for the rent (a relief, since they hadn't been truly keen on the house). Then they considered another, which was big and beautiful and came with the all- important garden, but they eventually retreated from it because it was in a dodgy neighborhood. (Monday of last week, Ms. Berger woke up at 4 a.m. and began researching murder rates in the area. "There were 16 in the last year," she said glumly.) But a happy ending was in the offing. A few weeks earlier, she and Ms. Hazard had met Johanna Bronk, 23, a recent Oberlin graduate and classical singer, and Sara Teitelbaum, who is also 23 and studying to be a lactation consultant. The two had written their own evocative ad but, like Ms. Berger and Ms. Hazard, had not found the real estate. At that first meeting, all had taken to each other, but Ms. Hazard and Ms. Berger assumed that the four could never be a good match. Ms
"So is it my turn tomorrow, then?" "Certainly not!" His face was teasingly outraged. "I told you I wasn't done, didn't I?" "What more is there?" "You'll find out tomorrow." He reached across to open my door for me, and his sudden proximity sent my heart into frenzied palpitations. But his hand froze on the handle. "Not good," he muttered. "What is it?" I was surprised to see that his jaw was clenched, his eyes disturbed. He glanced at me for a brief second. "Another complication," he said glumly. He flung the door open in one swift movement, and then moved, almost cringed, swiftly away from me. The flash of headlights through the rain caught my attention as a dark car pulled up to the curb just a few feet away, facing us. "Charlie's around the corner," he warned, staring through the downpour at the other vehicle. I hopped out at once, despite my confusion and curiosity. The rain was louder as it glanced off my jacket.
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