“It will be good for you to get out,” he said. “Get back on the horse, so to speak.”

“What about Jenna’s baby?” Nola asked. “Any leads?”

“There was never any baby.”

“What d’you mean?”

He pulled out another folded paper. “Read the doctor’s report. Your sister’s pulling your chain.” There was a sadness in his voice. “She’ll destroy you if you give her the chance.”

“Whatever the difficulties, I’ll prove to her that my love is unconditional,” Nola said. “Like the parent she’s never had. It’s a long, slow and painful process for both of us.”

“I’m sure your shrink has told you that the more famous you become, the more Jenna enjoys bringing you down to your knees.”

“My shrink is busy analyzing my early childhood,” Nola replied in a light tone. No need to report that her therapist, too, had suggested hat she was obsessed over a promise she could not have delivered and which had become moot since.

Wade looked at her. “How are you feeling otherwise?”

“I’m miserable over Eddie.” Nola's eyes welled up. Years ago, she had learned about the trade-offs, only she had forgotten the lesson. “And I’m writing stupid, unhappy songs.”

“Get well and we’ll reschedule your European debut,” he said, his tone soft. “They’re waiting for you. Don’t let your fans down.”

“If Jenna comes along. Will Deanna join us?”

He shook his head. His eyes clouded over.

“What’s the matter? Oh, Wade. I’m so sorry.”

“We’ve drifted apart. Just as I’ve made it, I’ve failed. I can’t give my wife what she needs from me.”

“It’s so sad.” Nola guessed it was the constant travel. No way to raise babies. She was therefore startled when Wade added, “She’s jealous of you.”

“Of me? I am ‘work!’ ”

“My only client for nine years. The woman with whom I spend all my waking hours. A woman the world looks up to. She can’t walk down the street without seeing your face on the side of a bus, or open a magazine without you jumping out at her with your beauty and charm and accolades for your extraordinary talent. She can’t get into a taxi or a store without your voice pouring out at her from the radio.”

Nola sat back in the chair, looking at the open face she was so used to but hadn’t really seen in a while, the pale blue of the kind eyes so devoted to her that she had long taken it all for granted.

Neither one spoke. The waiter came, removed the dishes, and set down a thimble of sorbet.

A couple of weeks later, Jenna showed Nola a sketch of the living room she planned: it would be decorated in a harem-like tent with thick Oriental carpets and dozens of embroidered pillows in lieu of couches.