The Newsmakers by Lis Wiehl Page B

driver stop at a boutique on Montana Avenue, where she buys a pearl-gray pantsuit and a stylish above-the-knee dress. Maybe she should send Nylan a selfie of her wearing them.
    After checking in, she goes up to her tenth-floor room and unpacks. Then she sits on the edge of the bed. It’s late afternoon, the sun is softening, the room is silent. She looks out at the Pacific and the Santa Monica pier with its honky-tonk amusement rides. Suddenly a terrible wave of loneliness sweeps over her. She remembers a vacation she, Dirk, and Jenny took on the Maine coast when Jenny was three. One afternoon they played miniature golf, and she and Dirk let Jenny win. The winner got to pick the restaurant where they ate dinner. Who says a butterscotch sundae can’t be called fine dining? And now here she is, alone in a hotel room, three thousand miles from home.
    She picks up her phone and dials.
    â€œHello.” Dirk’s voice sounds oddly cheery.
    â€œHi, Dirk, it’s Erica. May I speak to Jenny?”
    There’s a pause and then a perfunctory, “Hold on.”
    Out the window, she watches a hawk circling while she waits.
    â€œHi, Mommy.”
    â€œHi, baby. How are you?”
    â€œI’m okay.”
    â€œI miss you. I miss you so much. How was school?”
    Jenny giggles. “I played hooky.”
    â€œYou did?”
    â€œYes, we went to the aquarium in Boston. I fed the penguins!”
    â€œYou and Daddy went to the aquarium?”
    â€œAnd Linda.”
    â€œWho’s Linda?”
    â€œDaddy’s new friend.”
    â€œOh. Okay.”
    â€œShe’s so nice. We had a lot of fun.”
    â€œI, uh, I don’t think you should be skipping school, honey.”
    â€œIt’s only one day.”
    â€œYou must be tired after all that excitement. Did you have a nice dinner?”
    â€œDelicious.”
    â€œYour favorite mac ’n’ cheese?”
    â€œNo, that’s for babies. We had scallops with fennel, wild rice pilaf, and a kale soufflé.”
    â€œA kale soufflé?”
    â€œLinda invented it. She’s very creative. We’re going to paint my bedroom.”
    Erica feels a welling up behind her eyes. Her baby—she’s losing her baby, her little girl, her Jenny. And there’s nothing she can do about it.
    â€œI’m in Los Angeles, Jenny.”
    â€œIs it nice?”
    â€œYes, yes, it is. I wish you were here. Then it would be much nicer.”
    â€œI have to go to school tomorrow!”
    â€œI know, I just meant . . . well, I just meant that I miss you terribly and I love you and I’m proud of you.” Jenny doesn’t say anything. “Bye-bye, baby girl.”
    Jenny sighs in exasperation. “I’m not a baby !”
    â€œNo, no, of course you’re not.” Erica sits up and exhales. “You’re a girl, and soon you’ll be a young woman. And you’re going to do great things!”
    â€œBye, Mom.”
    Erica hangs up. She feels her throat tighten as her loneliness edges toward anxiety.
    She looks over at the minibar. It looks friendly and welcoming. She walks over and opens it. The contents look so benign: the salted cashews, cheese and crackers, and, of course, those adorable little bottles. All the makings of a party. A party of one.
    Think it through . . .
    Erica reaches into the minibar and grabs a . . . Toblerone. Then she slips into shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers, takes a huge bite of the candy bar, and heads out for a run.

CHAPTER 17
    IT ’ S A SPARKLY SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA day as Erica and her driver wend their way through Brentwood toward Kay Barrish’s house. Erica is always dazzled by LA; the colors seem so much more vivid, varied, and saturated than back east, as if God was working with an extra box of paints when he created the landscape. Has it really only been three and a half weeks since the ferry crash? And now—wearing the pantsuit—she’s meeting