At least she'd spared her children that unhappiness, she thought as she squeezed through a group of boys noisily tossing a basketball back and forth over passing cars in the parking lot. Her kids had all been born here and had lived in the same house all their lives. When they left their familiar neighborhood, it would be because they wanted to, not because they had to.

There wasn't a lot she was willing to give Steve credit for, but thank God he'd left her with barely enough money to keep them in this secure life and neighborhood with a full-time mother. They'd never be able to keep up with the Christmas-in-the-Caribbean crowd, but at least they weren't going to have to move into a crackerbox rental house and sell off the china to make ends meet.

Todd was sitting on the front steps when she pulled into the drive. Just behind her a blue Mazda stopped and honked. The driver hopped out. Dorothy Wallenberg had on a tennis skirt and neon-pink blouse. She was a plump, solid woman who had thighs like tree trunks—well tanned, well-muscled tree trunks. Dorothy always seemed to be in a hurry, and this morning was no exception. "Hi, Jane, do me a quickie favor, will you?" she said, bounding around to the trunk of her car and gingerly lifting out an enormous sheet cake. "Take this in to Shelley, please.”

Jane slapped her forehead. "For the meeting tonight! I'd forgotten. I promised her I'd make a carrot salad. She'll skin me for not having it ready.”

Jane's friend and neighbor Shelley had a wonderful house for entertaining and did a lot of it. Almost any group she belonged to could count on her house for meetings and parties, but she despised potluck dinners, and when she was forced to have one she managed it like a parole officer. Nobody got to just wander in at their leisure, bringing their food. The food came first, early in the day; the guests could then arrive as late as they wanted without interfering with serving the meal. That was Shelley's standing rule, and it was a measure of the strength of her personality that her friends had learned to honor it.

“Thanks!" Dorothy said, easing the pan onto Jane's waiting arms.

“You're coming tonight, then?" Jane asked. Dorothy had previously claimed a schedule conflict. A former nurse, she volunteered in a free birth control clinic several nights a week.

“Sure," Dorothy answered with a grin. "Life isn't all vaginas."

“Mostly, though," Jane answered.

Dorothy laughed and got back into the car. "All settled, kids? Jane, there's a donut on your driveway."

“I know. Flocks of ravenous birds are due any minute.”

Her hands occupied with the big cake pan, Jane stuck out her leg and waved good-bye to Todd with her foot. He rolled his eyes and looked away.

A bad sign, that. A symptom that the beginning of the end was in sight.

TWO