The neighborhood children had finger printed witch and bitch in the grime on Lizzie's car. Did everyone know she didn't have a man? Where was Mr. Right when you needed him? It had been a long and fruitless year. It was time to get love back into her life. To restore the shine in her hair. To regain the glow that was missing from her skin. It was too late in biological time to get some things back, but beautiful hair and skin were available to anyone with love in her life.

It was no help that her best friend who had a new spring to her step, shiny hair, soft skin, and a beaming smile for the man in her life was pressing a stupid little plastic saint statue into her hand. Lizzie didn't do saints and mumbo jumbo. Lizzie did life.