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didn’t want Angela
     to think I’d forgotten about her.
    “Except she said she’d call when she was leaving home,” I mumbled to myself, strolling
     back toward my desk. “Don’t you think it’s odd? She definitely needs the charm string
     back today. That tea at the historical society is tomorrow afternoon.”
    Stan shrugged. “You need to look at the problem from all the angles,” he said. “Maybe
     her cell phone ran out of juice. Or maybe she forgot she was supposed to call.”
    “Angela doesn’t strike me as the type of woman who forgets anything.”
    Stan narrowed his eyes the way he always does when he’s thinking. “An organized, methodical
     woman, and yet she believes in curses.”
    Obviously, the only answer I had to that was a shrug. “Angela’s very matter of fact.
     Very even keel. I mean, except for the stuff about the curses. In fact, if it wasn’t
     for that and her reading her horoscope every day, I’d say Angela was the most levelheaded
     person I’ve ever met.”
    I stand by this description of Angela. At least I did until I heard a furious pounding
     on the front door and hurried over there to find Angela on the other side of thedisplay window, her hair standing up as if she’d been pulling on it and her face puffy.
     She was wearing green sweatpants, a hot pink T-shirt, no socks, and a pair of Crocs
     that looked like they’d last been worn in a muddy garden.
    I unlocked the door and pulled it open, looking in wonder at the woman who had been
     so well put together the last time I saw her. “Angela! I’ve been waiting for your
     call. What happened?”
    She pushed past me and into the Button Box. “Just get me those damned buttons,” she
     growled. “Now. I can’t wait to get them out of my life forever.”
    It didn’t take any magical powers to know something had gone haywire in Angela’s life,
     or that whatever it was, she was bound to blame it on the charm string. If her wardrobe
     wasn’t a giveaway, the dark smudges under Angela’s eyes were. So was her red nose.
     “Are you all right?”
    Her jaw stiff, she sniffled. “I’m fine. It’s just…allergies. My miserable allergies.
     I need to get home and take some medication and get to bed. I feel miserable, and
     I don’t want to feel miserable and look miserable tomorrow at the tea. I need my rest.
     That means I don’t have time to stand here and chitchat.”
    I got the message and went into the back room for the floral hatbox Angela had used
     to bring me the charm string. I’m not saying I was a convert to the believe-in-curses
     camp, but I do admit to peeking inside the box, just to make sure the charm string
     was in there where I’d put it along with a copy of the spreadsheet I’d prepared.
    “You know, Angela,” I said, walking back to the frontof the shop, my hands tight around the box that contained the precious cargo, “it’s
     not too late to change your mind. I’m still interested in buying.”
    Her shoulders shot back. Her chins quivered. “No. I like you, Josie. I can’t let anything
     happen to you. Besides…” She was as reluctant to take the box out of my hands as I
     was to let it go, but after a couple seconds of awkward tug-of-war, I relinquished
     my hold. “Maybe once this thing is safely in the museum, I can break the curse. Once
     and for all. Maybe I can even…” Her voice clogged. “Maybe there’s a way to reverse
     some of the bad things that have already happened. Do you think so?” Her eyes snapped
     to mine, suddenly so full of desperate hope, I couldn’t help feeling sorry for her.
    My voice was wistful when I looked at the hatbox. “I guess the only way to find out
     is to give away the charm string.”
    “Yes.” Angela was convinced. She held the hatbox close to her chest. “That’s exactly
     what I’m going to do. Hear that, Universe?” Like she actually expected some unseen
     force to answer, she looked up and all around, and when the only response