Samantha sat up in the wicker chaise longue overlooking the ocean. “Adrienne, New York means people. I don’t like people. Except if they want to talk to me about how to throw a dinner for six. Why don’t you come out here? I’ll make you peanut butter and bacon.”

“I need a friend, Samantha.” Adrienne burst into tears. “Things here are really shitty. And I can’t leave Paul. I’ll send a car for you. I just can’t handle this anymore.”

“Adrienne, what happened?” Samantha had never heard her like this.

Adrienne was now hysterical, heaving for breath. “It’s nothing. It’s just my whole fucking life is falling apart and I don’t know if I can handle it. And I’m tough, honey. I’m really tough. But I just goddamn hate everything.” She continued to cry and heave for air.

“Adrienne, take it easy,” Samantha spoke softly.

“They’re gonna subpoena me too. I could be disbarred. And I know this is all because we’re fuckin’ Democrats.”

“What?” Samantha didn’t follow.

“It’s ’cause the Justice Department hates us for my throwing all those fund-raisers for the Democrats. Plus there’s the fucking fifty-pound bird!”

“Who?” Samantha asked, but Adrienne was on a tear.

“The fuckin’ bird that built like a three-hundred-pound nest on our building and was tossing pigeon and rat carcasses on the street. So Paul takes the nest away one night because I don’t want my children to get West Nile disease because we live in an apartment we paid thirty million fuckin’ dollars for. And the next day the Audubon Society and the entire world is picketing and the goddamn bird makes the cover of the Financial Times. So I tell Paul we have to pay someone to rebuild the nest but the goddamn thing has moved to the Carlyle, so even the bird is trying to screw me. And the crazy thing is we’re sending boys to an immoral war to die and all anyone cares about is my husband’s bank account and the rights of a bird who should be in a forest to live in a Fifth Avenue co-op.” Adrienne was now alternating between shrieks of laughter and sobs.

“Adrienne, take it easy. Of course I’ll come in,” Samantha said reassuringly.

“Oh, by the way. I left one thing out. Jessica met a girl in her new school’s gymnastics class and says she’s now a lesbian.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Samantha didn’t want Adrienne to go hysterical again.

“It’s the goddamn teacher! She’s twenty-five.”

“Oh.” Samantha didn’t know what to say.

“Hey, there’s a silver lining.” Adrienne finally stopped crying. “She’s convinced her to eat organic and stop drinking. My daughter’s an ex-alcoholic and a bisexual and she’s only eleven.”

Samantha and Adrienne met for dinner on the West Side.