I stretched my arms above my head, coquettish, ridiculous in my hospital smock. “You want to be my friend?”

“Of course I do.”

“I wasn’t sure.”

She changed the subject. “Scott is very upset. He wanted to fly in and see you, but I stopped him.”

“Thank you. You did the right thing.”

“I always do the right thing.”

“No. You let me into your house. I think, perhaps, that that was wrong.”

“Maybe. I don’t think so.”

“Thank you for the flowers.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

“I don’t really!” I laughed, hoarse. “I like them because they’re from you. But, to be honest, flowers have always kind of scared me. I worry about the bugs they could be hiding.”

She ran her manicured hand across the heads of the flowers, which rubbed themselves against her touch. “See, nothing nestling in here. Except the very best wishes for the very best girl. Is there something I should have brought you instead? Chocolates? Fruit?”

“Nah. I don’t really feel like eating. I figure this, all this, can at least be utilized as a successful diet. Fuck Dr. Atkins. Screw Weight Watchers. If a person is serious about losing weight, they should prove it by trying to kill themselves. And if they survive, then they deserve to be thin. And their hospital recuperation period will play host to a transformation.”

“Very good, Ruby. Shut the fuck up.” She kissed my forehead. “I’m glad that you’re still on the planet.”

The phone rang. It was Sean. At first I couldn’t place him, without his big head in front of me. He was so excited that he forgot, for a few minutes, where it was he was calling me.

“Ruby! Great news!”

“About my suicide attempt?”

“Oh, shit. Oh, yeah right.” He paused to think of an inspiring piece of wisdom to impart but then decided against it. “Listen, you crazy bitch.”

“I’m listening,” I said.

“There’s bidding war for Mean People Suck. I screened a cut on Sunday and Lions Gate made an offer right away. Then Miramax got wind of it, right, but then Sony Pictures Classics offered more. Things are looking great. And you know what else? It’s you that hooked them. They’re all saying that it’s the best performance by a young actress since Jodie Foster in Taxi Driver.”

“Fuck off.”

“No joke.”

“Does that mean you’re the new Scorsese?”

“It means that I already have financing for my next film. I’m writing it for you.”

“I don’t know that I can go through all this again.”

“It’s a comedy.”

“Can we talk about this when I get out?”

“Yeah, sure.” A baby started to gurgle in the background. “So, Ruby, I just wanted to say thank you.”

Rachel leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.

“No problem,” I said, waving goodbye to her as she left.

Forty-one