By August of 2003, much of the advance work was done and she realized that yet again she’d been so busy with work that she’d forgotten to have a life. Even with Kate just across the bay, Tully had hardly seen her. So she picked up the phone and invited her best friend and god-daughter to spend the day with her.

“Sorry,” Kate said. “I can’t come into the city.”

“Come on,” Tully pleaded. “I know I haven’t called enough this summer, but Johnny and I have been working twelve-hour days.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. You see him more than we do.”

“I’ve missed you.”

There was a pause, then: “I’ve missed you, too, but today is no good for me. The boys have some friends coming over.”

“How about if I take Marah off your hands? Yeah,” Tully said, warming to the idea. “I could take her to Gene Juarez for a manicure and a makeup lesson. Maybe a facial. It’d be great. A girl’s day out.”

“She is too young for a spa, Tully.” Kate laughed, but it sounded a little strained. “And you can forget the makeover. She is not allowed to wear makeup until ninth grade.”

“No one is too young for a spa, Kate, and you’re crazy to forbid makeup. Remember when your mom tried that? We just put it on at the bus stop. Don’t you want her to learn the right way to apply it?”

“Not yet.”

“Come on,” Tully cajoled. “Put her on the eleven-fifteen boat. I’ll meet her at McDonald’s. You said you two are always fighting anyway.”

“Well . . . I guess that would be okay. But no R-rated movies, no matter how much she begs.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe that’ll put her in a good mood. Tomorrow we’re going school shopping, which is only slightly less painful than a root canal without anesthesia.”

“Maybe I’ll take her to Nordstrom, get her something special.”

“Forty dollars.”

“What?”

“That’s how much you can spend. Not one dollar more, and Tully, if you buy her anything that shows off her belly—”

“I know. I know. Britney Spears is the Antichrist. Got it.”

“Good. I’ll go tell Marah.”

Exactly one hour and twelve minutes later, Tully directed her driver to pull up beside the McDonald’s on Alaskan Way. She could tell by the honking that it was an illegal place to park, but what did she care?

She rolled down the window and saw Marah running toward her. “Over here,” she called, getting out of the car.

Marah hugged her tightly. “Thank you so much for getting me out of the house. Mom’s been ragging on me all day. What are we going to do?”

“How about makeovers at Gene Juarez?”

“Awesome.”

“And after that, we can do whatever you want.”