“Thanks,” Laura said to Maggie, and headed to her room to get ready for Nina’s. She felt shy and exposed now, and wished she’d kept her mouth shut. Someone offering to help you doesn’t mean you’re helpless, does it?

Maggie watched Laura leave the room and sighed. It was a sad truism of her work that not everyone who needs help wants help, and not everyone who gets help uses it. She leaned over and stroked Ollie, who squeezed his eyes encouragingly at her. You did your best, he seemed to say, keep that shit up. Then he added, And I’m hungry, if you happen to be passing the cupboard.

NINETEEN

Nina Hill lived in the neighborhood immediately surrounding Larchmont Boulevard, commonly referred to as Larchmont Village or, more occasionally, Windsor Square. It was less formal than Hancock Park and the houses were smaller. However, it had actually been built earlier and its more casual appearance—a wide variety of styles, differently sized lots—was equally as studied as its sibling. Many of the houses had guesthouses, largely small, separate buildings in the back gardens, giving rise to the phrase back house. Nina lived in one such back house, and it took Laura quite some time to find it. And when she did find it, there was a large tabby cat sitting on top of the gate, judging her.

She paused, but when he didn’t move, she pushed the gate gently, expecting him to jump off. He kept his eyes locked on hers the whole time as he slowly moved with the gate, maintaining a cast-iron loaf position without a single wobble. Apparently he had fur-welded himself to the gate some time earlier and had been hoping someone would trickle along so he could show off his skills. Once this strange experience had played itself out, Laura nodded her appreciation and headed up a flight of stairs to a red front door.

Nina swung it open and Laura was about to step forward, when the tabby shot underfoot and caused her to stumble. He’d disengaged his docking clamps, clearly.

“I see you guys have met,” said Nina. “That’s Phil, he’s showing off because there are people here.”

“Hmm,” said Laura, hesitating when she realized there were two other people in the room. But she went in, because her mother didn’t raise a quitter.

Nina Hill’s apartment was basically a bookcase with a bed and a chair in it. Laura gazed around, impressed.

“So,” she said, “books then?”

“Mostly,” said Nina, “but also movies and TV.”

Laura came all the way in and found a place to sit on a rug with a tiger on it. She smiled at the other two women. “Hi there, I’m Laura.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” said one, looking at Nina. “Another L name?”

Nina shrugged. “I didn’t even notice.”