"That is our backyard!" Caroline was saying as they all entered the kitchen. "Three different surveyors were here, and they all agreed on the property line. So help me, if she pulls up one more stake, I'm going to stick it up her ..."

Caroline stopped short at the newcomers' arrival. Then everyone seemed to stare at Lance, who looked wrinkled and worn. Julia knew how exhausted she was, and thought that he must be about to collapse, too; he certainly looked like it.

"Julia, welcome back," her mother said at last. "Aren't you going to introduce your friend?"

Friend. Not sweetheart or parasite or stalker. Friend. She could handle that.

"Lance Collins, this is my mother, Madelyn, and my sister, Caroline. You met Steve and Nina. Everyone, you probably know about Lance."

The grins on the women's faces said that yes, they knew all about Lance. Steve's vacant expression said that he was wondering what would happen to the 248b deduction when Congress met next session. For the first time ever, Julia wished the rest of her family was more like Steve.

"Sweetheart," Steve said to Caroline. "Did I hear something break?"

"Oh, Steve, I'm fine," Caroline told him.

"But what broke?" he persisted.

"It was a pickle jar, Steve," Madelyn said, obviously understanding what her son-in-law was getting at. "And don't worry, it was empty. No precious pickles went to waste."

Steve seemed to visibly relax.

"Lance, won't you come over here and sit down?" Madelyn gestured to one of the barstools surrounding Caroline's granite-covered island. "You must be exhausted. Did you have a nice trip?"

"He had a fine trip, Mother," Julia said, but Madelyn cut her a look that mothers never lose, no matter how many years removed from the womb their children are.

"I was talking to Lance, Julia Marie. I was speaking to your guest."

"Hey, don't jump on me. Caroline's the one premeditating murder," Julia said, quietly relieved that there was a major crisis on the table, something—anything—to take the focus off her and the stray that she'd brought home.

Caroline sighed and screamed into a dishrag. "When she came up for air, she explained: "Crazy Myrtle is about to be the death of me."

"Caroline," Madelyn interceded, "don't you think you're being a little harsh?"

"She goes through our trash," Caroline said with the finality of someone laying down a trump card.

"No way does she actually do that." Nina laughed.

"Oh yes she does," Caroline said defiantly. "She goes out there in her bathrobe before the garbage men come. She'll dig around, and if she finds something she likes, she'll take it." Before anyone could protest this bold revelation, Caroline raised her right hand and said, "I swear."

"Well, what do you do about it?" Nina asked.

"The first time we ignored it, but after a month, Steve went over there, and the crazy bat laughed and slammed the door in his face." Caroline took a bottle of kitchen cleaner and sprayed her already spotless counter, then picked up the rag and began scrubbing with a vengeance.

"Now"—Caroline sighed—"she's complaining about the property line. She's probably out there pulling up markers even as we speak. Forty-seven empty houses in this place, and the only other occupied one is next to us. Is it a nice young family with kids the same age as ours? No. It's the crazy mother of the crazy contractor who went bankrupt and is now trying to drive me completely crazy." She turned to her husband. "I swear, if she so much as crosses a toe over our property line during Cassie's party, I'll—"

"Call the police!" Steve supplied.

"No, Steve, our daughter is not going to be the only child in preschool to have the cops bust up her birthday party. "

Madelyn tossed her hands into the air. "Lance, don't look at us," she said. "Turn away. This is not a proud moment for the James family. I am so ashamed." She turned and went through the French doors and out onto the patio.

Julia watched her mother leave, and then she wondered where her normally docile sister had gone. Caroline must have read Julia's mind, because she held her hands out to her side and said, "Myrtle makes me crazy."

"I hope my being here didn't embarrass your mother too much," Lance said.

"Don't worry about it. There's dip out there. That's all she really needs," Caroline said and threw the rag into the sink.

"Where are the munchkins?" Julia asked, looking around for her niece and nephew.

"Oh, no," Caroline said. "You need a shower and a nap first. Trust me." She pushed Julia toward the stairs. "Steve, get Nina's keys and bring Julia's bags in. Lance's, too. They've got to clean up. And then I want you to go get the spray paint in the garage and mark the ground between the stakes so that we'll know where the line is when the fence people show up."

"But, honey—" Steve started. One look at Caroline changed his tune to "Yes, dear," and the Hello Kitty hat was out the door.

"There you are, sleepyhead," Julia's father said.

"Hi Daddy," Julia said, and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. After a long shower and a quick nap, the only thing she needed to feel completely renewed was the sight of her father sitting in the formal living room, reading the newspaper, his bifocals low on his nose. "It's good to see you, honey."

"You, too," she said, taking a seat on the edge of the table in front of him.

He folded his paper and said, "You almost missed the party."

Julia grinned. "Isn't that what you're doing?" He smiled and adjusted his grip on the paper and said, "If I lay quiet enough, they'll forget about me, and I might just get ii done."

She watched her father shift in the tasteful furniture, and she could tell that even here, in his youngest daughter's enormous house, he felt fenced in. Bill James was a man for whom ax thousand square feet would never be enough room. And as Julia sat there, studying him, she realized that the older, the more she became her father's daughter.

"Have we had any rain?" she asked him.

He nodded his head and said, "Enough."

"How are we for hay?"

"Good shape. Good shape. I think we're going to get that bull bought."

"That's great," she said, feigning normalcy, but her breaking throat betrayed her. "Daddy ..."

"It's okay, sweetie," he said. His big hands fell over both of hers, the universal father signal for you're still my little girl. "It's gonna be okay," he told her. "Now, go, enjoy the party."

She hugged him, then moved toward the noise.

"But I'd watch out for Ro-Ro," he called after her.

Through the French doors of the family room, Julia saw that Cassie and her friends were engaged in a fiery game o duck-duck-goose on the back lawn. Ro-Ro was settled on a wicker chair, with Steve waiting dutifully at her side. A number of parents stood around, playing referee. But Julia didn’t' follow the action; she followed the voices.

"I like him," Nina said as Julia neared the kitchen. "He laughs when he's supposed to, and he wears good shoes. You can tell a lot about a man by his shoes."

"I don't think it matters what we think. Julia doesn't like him," Caroline stated flatly.

"How can you tell?" Nina asked.

"Because men make Julia uncomfortable."

"Caroline, I don't think you're being fair to your sister, her mother replied.

"I love her, Mother. Aside from my own children, I love he more than anybody in the world, but my sister is—"

"Listening to every word you say." Looks of tremor passed over the three faces as they stared at Julia in the door way. "Caroline, you're right, I'm not interested in him. And Mother, thank you for defending my honor. That seems to be needed a lot lately," Julia said, walking toward them.

"Honey," her mother asked, "how are you feeling?"

"The last two days haven't been a dream, have they?"

Nina shook her head. "Nope."

Julia sighed. "Where is he?" she asked.

"With the kids. He's doing magic tricks. He's really good," Caroline added, as if that would make the situation better.

"I know. He's already made my dignity disappear." Julia climbed onto one of the barstools and picked up a sugar cookie in the shape of a balloon.

"Okay, crew." Nina slapped her hands together. "This is the brain trust. It's time to formulate a plan. I say we call Candon and set up—"

"Candon's history," Julia said. "He saw the sales numbers and got greedy. I am officially finished with Candon."

"Well, then we'll get Harvey—" Caroline started.

"Harvey had a heart attack."

"Oh my," Madelyn exclaimed. "Have you sent flowers?" "No, Mom, I've been busy having a fictitious affair." "Well, that's no reason not to send flowers," Madelyn said, amazed.

No, but the fact that I gave him the heart attack might be, Julia thought.

"Julia," Caroline said, "what are you going to do?

"Maybe a houseplant?" Madelyn interjected.

"I don't know, Caroline," Julia snapped, ignoring her mother and growing irritated with her sister. She didn't have an answer. She didn't have a clue. "I'm going to sleep in my own bed tonight. I'm going to spend time with the kids. I'm going to wrap my mind around this and come up with something."

"Cut flowers die," Madelyn afforded, as if clicking through the "in case of death or hospitalization" registry in her head. "I don't think that's the right message, you know, under the circumstances," she whispered, as if Harvey could hear her and she didn't want to be caught speaking ill of the almost-dead.

It was only then that Julia realized how alone she was in this. Anyone in that house would have lain down in front of a train if she'd asked them, but for her future in publishing, their efforts would be just as pointless. There was one thing, however, that they could do.

"So, Sis, which room did you put Lance in?"

"No." Caroline shook her head, seeing where her sister was heading.

"Come on, his stuff is already upstairs!"

"He's a stranger. He's not sleeping under my roof."

"Would you rather he sleep under mine?" Julia asked. "You've got Steve. You'll be safe."

"Oh, yeah," Nina interjected, " 'cause when I think bodyguard, I always think Steve."

"Hey," Caroline snapped.

"Nina." Julia turned to her best friend. "Can't he stay with you?"

Nina seemed to ponder this. "Tempting, but no. I am this close"—she held her thumb and forefinger inches apart from each other—"to having my divorce finalized. If Jason thought

Cheating at Solitaire 87

I was living with another man, who knows what hell he'd raise. Besides, you're the one who brought Lance home; now you're going to have to feed him and water him and take him out when he needs to go."

"Mom?" Julia tried her last option.