The ground swayed under her feet. With Wade's outright refusal to have Lulu in his life, the hope of stabilizing her marriage had evaporated. What now? Until she could arrive at answers, she had none to give to the media. The irony of it! Normally, she and the press had co-existed in a neat symbiosis. She needed them to grow her into a star, they needed her to nourish their survival. Over time, many of the reporters had become acquaintances. “Next time get me out through the garage,” she muttered to Roberta.

“The reporters are multiplying like falling autumn leaves the longer you’re silent about the baby,” Roberta said. “That’s good. Keep them guessing—and hot.”

Carrying Lulu and flanked by Leslie and Yoram, Nola half ran to the limousine, leaving Roberta to bask in her battles with the media.

The limousine sailed past wide blocks of ten- and twelve-story concrete structures punctured by hundreds of windows and decorated with laundry hanging from balconies. The mammoth buildings tapered into dilapidated four-story houses with exposed cinder block walls, galvanized roofs and crumbling verandas.

At the commercial district, the limousine slowed to inch its way through thousands of people and bicycles moving every which way. Nola's misery would not desert her. Lulu had chased away the loneliness, but now both of them were dependent on Wade. Without his support, Nola was anchorless. In her head, questions spun like a compass out of control. What would it take to adopt? How could she handle whatever paperwork would be required? Would the Chinese allow it without her husband’s consent? How would she go about getting for Lulu a Chinese exit permit and a U.S. entry visa?

Traffic became organized in the main thoroughfare, where the center lane for motorized vehicles was flanked on either side by much wider bicycle lanes. The metal railings kept the multitude of pedestrians from spilling into the road. Nola craned her neck to scan the row of small shops, each marked with Chinese characters. The store windows were dusty and cluttered with electric appliances, work tools, sewing supplies, kitchenware, herbs and furniture—all strewn or hung about. No touch of modern merchandising and display concepts was visible.

Against the creaking of farmers’ wooden pushcarts, ringing bicycles and blowing horns, Leslie kept silent as he toyed with his huge necklace, a Pueblo silver and turquoise piece. Nola was certain he was under Wade's orders to keep her to her routine, by whatever means. Was he paid a bonus at the end of the year for all the rehearsals or recording sessions she didn’t miss?

Since no car seat could be found in the stores, Nola held Lulu in her lap. The closeness of the trusting little head resting between her breasts filled up the empty spots inside her. She brushed her lips over the fuzzy head. “I love you,” she whispered.

“Lulululululululu.”