“Yeah, you’re right, I guess.” I sighed. “I guess we’ll never really know how she died.” Thinking of Marilyn made me sad. I gave Bobby a quick good-bye, turning at the door to give him a half-salute. I knew he’d stare at the door long after I left.

That night I settled into the sofa and automatically reached for the remote and turned on the television. There had been no voice mail on my cell or at home from Dave. He was shooting nights and busy, and while it only took ten seconds to leave a voice-mail message, I figured he’d call me later. I was giving him some slack because he was being great about going with me to see my mom tomorrow, and I knew we’d have tomorrow night together to watch the “Marilyn” show.

Robotically, I flicked through the channels, never staying on any show for longer than a few seconds. This was how I unwound at the end of the day. The room was dark except for the illumination from the television set as I scoured through the channels. Sipping my cold beer, I thought about what Bobby had said about Marilyn. He had a point: a barbiturate enema is a strange way to commit suicide.

Lucy woke me up the next morning, purring close to my face. That wasn’t a sign of affection; it meant the food bowl was empty. I’d fallen asleep on the couch. Cursing myself for not moving into the bedroom to sleep, I made my way to the kitchen to make coffee. I was joyless because today was the day my mom was in town and I had to meet her for brunch.

She wasn’t in LA. She was in the “Los Angeles area” as she liked to call it. Mom thought LA was ugly; she preferred San Diego, like every other person with an Arizona license plate driving up and down Balboa Boulevard in Pacific Beach. Fortunately, her preference kept her out of my zip code most of the time, but there was no getting out of seeing her today. Mom was in Anaheim at some sort of annual conference held by Crate and Barrel Furniture, a meeting of the laminate-wood sales force to bolster morale. Even though she was working, Mom had made time on Saturday to come up and see me, and she was going to be bringing a friend from work, Carolyn. She probably thought she needed the support to sit through a lunch with me.