Free Be My Neat-Heart by Judy Baer

things in order. We could probably settle this in a few sessions and I would be the one responsible for reuniting sister and brother and healing the rift between them. The idea appealed to the good Samaritan in me. Then I could get on with the job of spending the healthy check Hamilton had given me.
    Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.
    I was already mentally purchasing Jimmy Choos and a new file cabinet in cherry-red when I rang the doorbell of the attractive town house located in a very trendy part of the city. Whatever Molly was doing wrong, she must also be doing something right. One can’t afford to live in this part of town if they are a continual goof-up.
    Or so I thought.
    â€œWho is it?” A woman’s timid voice came from behind the door.
    â€œSamantha Smith with Clutter Busters.”
    The door flew open and I was jerked inside so quickly that I nearly left my shoes on the front porch. The door slammed shut behind me. I was greeted by an attractive woman in a business suit. She wore a smile of relief on her face.
    â€œSorry about dragging you in like that, but I’m not keen on opening my door for the neighbors to peek in. They’re retiredand have designated me as their live entertainment when there’s nothing on television.” Molly looked a little shamed. “If my foyer looked better, I wouldn’t mind, but as it is…”
    Then I looked past her and into her home.
    â€œI see what you mean.”
    There was a canoe leaning against one wall, a bicycle against the other, tennis rackets spouting out of an umbrella stand, umbrellas hanging from the upper door jamb like icicles after a storm, athletic clothes and the duffel bags they should have been in, tennis shoes, unread newspapers, a guitar and seven boxes of Girl Scout cookies filling what might once have been a very pretty area. The canoe took up most of the space and blocked the main portion of the living area from view but I could still see slippery mountains of magazines, baskets of unfolded laundry and teetering stacks of CDs and tapes beyond.
    â€œMy brother used to say I needed a bomb-sniffing dog to get around in here,” Molly admitted cheerfully. “But now he’s changed his mind. He’s afraid a dog loose in here would never find its way out again.” She stopped talking to stare at me. “Jared is right—you are pretty!”
    That took me aback for a moment but once it sunk in, I felt a ripple of pleasure flow through me. Though I don’t even like Molly’s infuriating brother, I couldn’t help being flattered.
    Before I could open my mouth, however, Molly continued. “He’s terribly angry with me right now. I’ve disappointed him. It’s just that it’s impossible for me to be meticulous like him. Totally impossible.”
    â€œA self-fulfilling prophecy?” I murmured to myself.
    Molly heard me. “Right. You want me to think this place into order?”
    My mind raced as I studied her. She was slender and pretty in a soft, delicate way. Her light brown hair framed her facein loose curls and her cheeks and lips were naturally rosy. Likeable. That’s the best word that I could use to describe Molly. There was something about her that made her easily and instantaneously likeable. She had none of the sharp edges or disapproving expressions that her brother had. If Jared was a rabid bat, Molly was a fluffy baby bunny.
    Looking around the room before me and then remembering Jared’s pristine environment made me wonder if there were any similarities whatsoever between the two.
    â€œWould you like to come into what my brother calls ‘Tornado Alley’?” She stepped over one of the canoe’s oars and into the living room.
    With efficiency born of much practice, Molly tossed throw pillows, afghans, workout clothing, books and pizza boxes off the couch onto the floor and offered me a seat.
    â€œI