The urge to prattle never left her but I kept steering her back to a structured history. Starting with Chad’s birth and continuing into the toddler years, preschool, and the boy’s current placement in one of the most expensive grade schools in the city, an intimate place originally based on psychoanalytic theory but now eclectic. I’d lectured there a few times, thought it was overpriced, no better than any school, but not harmful. If need be, the director could be counted on.

No need for that now, but it might be interesting to see how Dr. Lisette Auerbach’s impressions gibed with Gretchen’s description of Chad as a meld of Louis Pasteur, Leonardo da Vinci, and Saint George.

Despite her troubled past and her foreshortened future, Gretchen could’ve been any proud, nervous, overprotective, overindulgent Westside mom.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, “he’s a killer athlete, too. Soccer and basketball. Mr. Cup in Hand must’ve been some kind of stud. Brad and Albert and Pelé.”

I said, “You contributed half of Chad’s chromosomes. You also created his environment.”

“Three cheers for me. I’m just hoping some of those chromosomes don’t mess him up. Like my ADD, my propensity to—”

“Gretchen, what specifically are you concerned about?”

“What do you think?” she shouted. “What to tell him.”

“What have you told him so far?”

“That I’m sick.”

“Did you name the sickness?”

“No. Why would I?”

“When kids don’t have facts they sometimes supply their own.”

“And?”

“Their fantasies can be worse than reality.”

“What can be worse than the fact that I’ve got fucking cancer and am going to screw him up royal by abandoning him?”

“What measures have you taken for his care?”

“What a way with words you have,” she said.

“Have you planned?”

“Hell, yes. My plan is my sister. I have two of them. Katrine’s a bigger asshole than me, total washout, but Bunny’s solid-gold. Maybe being the middle child helped her avoid family shit in some way. Whatever made her who she is, she’s great and she’s taking Chad.”

“Where does Bunny live?”

“Berkeley. Her husband’s a physics professor, she teaches English, both her kids are off in college. Chad always likes visiting her and Leonard, they’ve got a funky house in the Berkeley Hills, nice view of the Bay. Got a great dog, mutt named Waldo, Chad loves him, too.”

She sniffed. Caressed her oxygen tank. “From their backyard you can see the Golden Gate Bridge.” She teared up. “Bunny will be a great mom for Chad. Better than me.”

“Have you talked to Chad about living with Bunny and Leonard?”

“Why would I even bring that up? It would freak him out!”

“You think he’s unaware of how ill you are?”

“I think he doesn’t pay much attention as long as he gets his attention.”

I stayed silent.