Dear Self,

Buy more heart-shaped duct tape.

Love, Marissa.

The drive to the club took her from San Ramon into the far reaches of Blackhawk, past two security gates and up a long, winding drive. She parked her aging Toyota next to her mother’s BMW and reminded herself that it was her mother who had made the first overture to resume normal relations. Détente was possible, just not probable.

One empty cocktail glass testified that her mother had been there for a while. But I’m not late, Marissa told herself, I’m right on time. Maybe Mom got here early because she needed a drink. Don’t start by feeling guilty for something you didn’t do.

“I’m so glad you were free tonight, sweetie.”

Marissa blinked at the indulgent tone and wondered if that glass was the first empty or the second. Her mother didn’t drink much. Maybe there would be shouting and items thrown after all. “I think we do need to talk, so thank you for calling me.”

“Have a drink, if you like.”

“No, I’m really watching what I eat, but thank you.”

Her mother’s nod was understanding. She even looked mildly interested. “In that case, I’m sure chef will be able to prepare something that’s right. The Zone? Weight Watchers? Atkins? I’ve been trying to lose five pounds for the past year.”

Marissa bit her tongue so she didn’t snarl, “Five? Try fifty-five and then some. Give me a freakin’ break here!”

Unsettled by her inner vehemence, she calmed herself by glancing at the day’s menu choices before answering. “None of the above. Lots of exercise and those Take It Off meal packs. Right now the fewer choices and thought I have to give to the whole thing, the better. I’m weary of obsessing about every bit of activity and ounce of food.”

“The last time we had dinner you said you were exercising more.” Her mother’s glance was evaluative but not overly judgmental. “You seem . . . a little thinner around your jaw. Are you pleased?”

“It’s taking forever to get real results. I’m following every rule, every suggestion. Well, I’m supposed to pull out this Take It Off guide to ordering food when dining out but I have basic common sense. I know the grilled trout and steamed veggies will be just what I need. And more delicious than another frozen dinner, that’s for sure.”

“I’ll have the same.” Her mother set down the daily printed menu. “As a show of solidarity. My cholesterol is up, too, so it’s best for me.”

Marissa glanced at her mother in alarm. “Is it serious? The cholesterol thing?”

“No, not really. I just need, as you say, to use my common sense. I’ve been a bit depressed lately and chocolate doesn’t cure everything.”

“I wish it did.”

“Amen,” her mother said emphatically. “I like what you’ve done with your hair, by the way.”

Surprised at the praise, Marissa could only say, “Thank you.”

“On the way here I was remembering you in high school. For some reason that horrific fight we had when you went to spend the holidays with your father has been on my mind. I shouldn’t have tried to make you choose.”