Unfathomably, some of the discussions drifted into a referendum on whether or not I should have gotten Dane to marry me before now, as that would have made the situation very different.

"How exactly would it be different?" I asked Louise, a personal trainer whose husband, Ken, was a LakeTravis paramedic. "Even if Dane had married me, he still wouldn't want babies."

"Yes, but he would have had to help you with Luke," Louise replied. "I mean, a man can't exactly kick his wife out in these circumstances, could he?"

"He didn't kick me out," I said defensively. "And I could never force Dane into doing something he didn't want just because we were married. He would still have the right to make his own choices."

"That's ridiculous," Louise said. "The whole reason you get married is so you can take away their choices. And they're happier that way."

"They are?"

"Definitely."

"Does marriage take away our choices, too?"

"No, it gives us more choices, plus security. That's why women want to get married more than men."

I was perplexed by Louise's views on marriage. And I reflected that marriage could devolve into a very cynical arrangement if love was taken from the equation. Like a brick wall with the mortar crumbling out, it would eventually collapse.

Reluctantly I called my mother to update her on Tara, the baby, and the fact that I was staying in Houston for a while to help her.

"After all the years you spent running around in Austin," my mother said, "you have no right to complain."

"I'm not complaining. And I wasn't running around. I was working and studying and—"

"It's drugs, isn't it? Tara was so innocent. She got pulled into that glamorous lifestyle with all her rich friends . . . all that coc**ne dust floating around, she probably inhaled some by accident, and then—"

"There's no such thing as secondhand coc**ne snorting, Mom."

"She was pressured," my mother snapped. "You have no idea what it's like to be beautiful, Ella. All the problems it can bring on."

"You're right, I wouldn't know. But I'm pretty certain Tara wasn't doing drugs."

"Well, your sister just wants attention. You make sure she knows I'm not paying a cent for her to have a three-month getaway. I need a getaway a lot worse than anyone else, let me tell you. All the stress this has caused me—why hasn't anyone thought about sending me to a spa?"

"No one's expecting you to pay for it, Mom."

"Who is, then?"

"I don't know yet. But the main thing to concentrate on now is helping Tara to get better. And taking care of Luke. He and I are staying in a nice little furnished apartment."

"Where is it?"

"Oh, inside the loop somewhere. Nothing special." I repressed a grin as I gazed at my luxurious surroundings, knowing if she found out I was living at 1800 Main, she'd be there within the half hour. "The place needs some work. Do you want to help me fix it up? Maybe tomorrow—"

"I'd like to," she said hastily, "but I can't. I'm too busy. You'll have to do it on your own, Ella."

"Okay. Would you like me to stop by with Luke sometime? I'm sure you want some bonding time."

"Yes . . . but my boyfriend likes to drop in unexpectedly. I don't want him to see the baby. I'll call you when I have a free day."

"Good, because I could use some babysitting—"

She hung up the phone.

When I called Liza and told her that I was staying in an apartment at 1800 Main, she was impressed and wildly curious. "How did you get a deal like that? Did you sleep with Jack or something? "

"Of course not," I said, offended. "You know me better than that."

"Well, I think it's weird, the Travises letting you stay there like that. But I guess they all have so much money, they can afford to make nice gestures. To them, maybe it's like tithing."

The person who helped me the most, not only in an emotional but a practical sense, was Haven Travis. She guided me through the process of having the utilities changed over, told me where to go for things I needed, and even recommended a babysitter her sister-in-law liked.

Haven made no judgments, nor did she want to interfere in anyone else's business. She was a good listener, and she had a quick sense of humor. I felt comfortable around her—nearly as comfortable as I did with Stacy—and that was saying something. I reflected that for all the people you lost touch with or couldn't hold on to, life occasionally made up for it by giving you the right person at the right time.

We had lunch and shopped for baby supplies one afternoon, and walked together a couple of mornings before the daytime heat accumulated. As we cautiously exchanged the details of our lives, we discovered this was one of those rare friendships in which everything was instantly understood. Although Haven didn't say much about her failed marriage, she indicated there had been some kind of abuse. I knew what courage it had taken for her to leave the relationship and rebuild her life, and the process of recovering would take a long time. And whoever she had been before, she was now different in significant ways.

The abusive marriage had distanced Haven from her old friends, some of whom were too uncomfortable to face the issue, and others who wondered what she had done to cause it. And then there had been others who had chosen not to believe her at all, thinking a rich woman couldn't be abused. As if money was a shield against all manner of violence or ugliness.