There were lies that we tell to save ourselves, and then there were lies that we tell to save other people. In the past Alexa had been a master of the former. Now, she supposed, as the New and Improved Alexa, it was probably about time to learn the latter.

“Nobody else knows,” she said. “I swear to you, I haven’t told, nor will I ever tell, a soul.”

“Not your mother, or your sister, or anybody else,” said Sherri. “Swear.”

“I swear. I haven’t told my mother or my sister.” One truth. “I will never tell a living soul, Sherri, I promise.” Two truths. “I would never share something like that. With anyone.” One lie.

Sherri’s face relaxed, and Alexa felt that for once she had done the right thing.

Some years hence, when the celebrity Alexa Thornhill has a child of her own, a little boy named Max who has a cowlick and a freckle on his ear and the biggest brown eyes you could imagine, a boy who is growing up in the dazzling Southern California sun, she will look back on this conversation. One day Max will get in an altercation with a bully at a playground. Alexa Thornhill will feel an innate, unquenchable urge to lift the bully up by the straps of his overalls and throw him into next week.

She will never do that, of course. It wouldn’t read well on her social media feed, to her fans and followers, which number in the hundreds of thousands. But she will remember the intensity of Sherri Griffin’s eyes as she said, “I’ll do anything to keep Katie safe.” And she gets it. She totally gets it.

But that is in the future. In the raw, unpasteurized present, the New and Improved Alexa, the nice Alexa, asked Sherri Griffin, “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you? Anything at all?”

Sherri thought for a minute. Alexa watched her eyes travel over the marshes of Plum Island, the piece of turnpike visible from the bar, the grasses dancing in the light wind.

“There is one thing,” Sherri said finally. She looked around the bar, because it was a small town, and you never knew who you might run into.

“Anything,” said Alexa eagerly. She polished off her seltzer and noticed that the bartenders had changed shifts.

She told Sherri, “Whatever you say, I’ll do.”

One truth, no lies.

90.

The Squad

Monica and her husband, who were celebrating their thirteenth wedding anniversary the night before school started, had a seven o’clock reservation at Mission Oak. You’ll never guess who was coming out as they were going in. Well, you might guess. It was Rebecca, Daniel Bennett, and . . . Morgan Coleman! Daniel was holding open the door for Rebecca and Morgan, and Morgan appeared to be giggling at something Daniel Bennett had said.