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epiphany, how fragile life is. Kelly giving me a big hug, saying,
Mom, you were right! I have to be careful!
    The fantasies of parenthood. As Kelly herself would say, there’s minus no chance of that. Minus no chance—in teen-talk, that’s less than zero, with a sneer.
    Most of the women I know watch Letterman or Leno or Conan before they drop off. Tuning in to the mainstream can be reassuring, I guess. It helps us relax, reminds us that we all have our troubles, we’re all capable of Stupid Human Tricks.
    I’m not averse to a little tube before bed, but the only wayI can get my head ready for sleep is to make a list. Putting the next day in order helps me feel less anxious about what’s expected of me.
    1. check fabrics, ECWW
    2. place Tanner order
    3. check on second fittings, Norbert & Spinelli weddings
    4. call Tracy
    5. call Fred
    6. lunch McQ
    7. dry cleaners
    8. grocery
    ECWW is East Coast Wedding Wholesalers, where I purchase ninety percent of the fabrics for my clients. The satin, silk and lace people. The company is normally very reliable, but they’ve got a new guy running the shipping department and he’s been messing up my orders. I have to do something about that. Last year my little one-woman company purchased over two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of fabrics from East Coast—far from their biggest account but not insignificant. Number two, Haley Tanner, I’ve mentioned already. Norbert and Spinelli are upcoming weddings, nine bridesmaids and two bridal gowns between them, both slightly behind schedule because everything is slightly behind—see the problems at East Coast. Number four on the list, Tracy Gilardi, came on to assist with fittings three years ago, but she turned out to be so competent I tend to let her do her own thing—where I get excitable she always remains calm, which can be very helpful in nervous-making situations like weddings. Fred is Fred Grossman, my accountant. I wantto check on quarterly tax payments. Alex McQuarrie is one of the top wedding planners in the area; he throws me a bone now and then, sets me up with a high-budget client. Or not. Sometimes all he wants is a companion for lunch, a sympathetic ear. We’ll see. Dry cleaners and grocery, self-explanatory.
    Business and personal, all in order, every item checked off. Lights out, time for bed.
    Worrying always exhausts me. So I’m out cold moments after my head sinks into the pillow. The only dream that sticks is something about being at the beach. It’s night and I’m a kid, my daughter’s age, looking for something along the shore. Is it my keys? How will I get home if I can’t find my keys? I search and search, sinking deeper and deeper into the sand. And then my alarm sounds and it’s a new day.
    Seven o’clock, lots of things to do, not least of which is a very frank discussion with Kelly over breakfast. Or maybe I’ll wait until we’re in the car. She’s got a job at Macy’s for the summer—the cosmetics counter—and that will give us twenty minutes or so to discuss the new boyfriend, see if I can figure out how serious it is.
    Kitchen or car, one way or the other we’ll sort it out.
    In my bathrobe, hair still damp, I knock on Kelly’s door. Part of my job, playing rooster.
    The unlocked door swings open.
    “Kel? Rise and shine.”
    At first I can’t comprehend what I’m seeing. Her bed is already made, throw pillows in place. Not possible, not at this hour.
    “Kelly?”
    That’s when I see the note. A note prominently displayed on her desk, held down by her
South Park
pencil holder. Anote written in her usual florid felt tip, abbreviated as if it were e-mail.
    Don’t worry, Mom, it’s not what u think. Something came up. Will call u 2morrow at high noon. Luv u tigers and tons(really!),
K.

She’s gone. Run away.
    5. Somebody Special
    The way Roy Whittle figures, there’s white man crazy and there’s Indian crazy. Both are bad, but Indian crazy is worse ‘cause in his opinion Indians