Later that night, Mary had sat on Josie’s bed and peppered her with questions: wasn’t he cute, didn’t he have the darkest eyes, wasn’t his accent sexy? “Yeah,” Josie had said indifferently and tried to change the subject. “You’re just jealous,” Mary said, and Josie, incredulous, had asked, “Of him?” “No, of me,” Mary said and looked at Josie coyly. Josie rolled her eyes, but she could feel the blush spreading upward from her neck.

Now, Mary opened the backseat door, and Josie took a deep breath and tried to sound convincing. “Damn, I forgot the coffee.” She’d been shopping all afternoon, found the organic basil and Chilean wine, the two dozen white tulips and filigreed place cards Mary had insisted upon, but she had purposefully forgotten the coffee. She wanted to go to the coffee shop and just sit by herself, an hour free of sticky juice boxes and The Wheels on the Bus CD.

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll use the grocery store stuff,” Mary said.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll go.”

“That’s silly. No one can tell the difference.” Mary unbuckled Madeline from her car seat and hoisted her onto her hip. “Ow,” Mary said, and grabbed for the baby’s hand. “Not the hair.”

“I know, it’s her new thing. If you make her laugh, she lets go.” Josie blew into Maddy’s face and she broke into a wave of giggles and batted her hands at Josie.

“Smart girl,” Mary said and kissed Maddy on the head.

“Twelve more days of first grade, Mommy!” Tyler said.

“That’s great, Ty,” Mary said.

Josie grabbed two bags and followed Mary into the house. “Do you … mind if I go to the coffee shop?”

Mary looked at her and readjusted the baby on her hip.

“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” Josie said.

“No, you go.” Mary dug in her purse and pulled out a twenty.

“I have money,” Josie said.

“Take it,” Mary said.

Josie hesitated, and Mary pushed the bill into her hand. “Get a smoothie or something.”

Josie looked at her feet but took the money. “All right … well, thanks,” she said.

“Be back by four, okay?”

Josie nodded and walked down the block toward the coffee shop.

Every time Mary insisted on giving her extra money, Josie felt guilty and uncomfortable. Because the truth was, she had money. Lots of it.

Her father had made his fortune in real estate when Josie was still a baby. He had started with a parking lot in Canoga Park, old grazing land that no one wanted; then came an office building on Ventura Boulevard; some warehouses in downtown L.A.; and then the malls—mammoth retail and entertainment centers that spanned Southern California. Now he was dealing in luxury hotel properties all over the West Coast.