Her phone rang. It was her assistant. "Tully. The McAdamses are here. From the rehab show."
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"I'm never too busy for friends," Tully said, giving them her PR smile. Hitching one leg over the end of her desk, she looked down at them.
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Tully was worried about Kate and Marah. For most of the past week, she'd tried to figure out how to fix things between them, but nothing had come to her. Now she was at her desk, looking over her script notes for today.
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The couple that walked through her door on that icy November morning bore only the most surface resemblance to the people who'd been on her first live show. Mr. McAdams had lost at least twenty pounds and no longer walked hunched over, with his head pulled down into his shoulders. Mrs. McAdams had cut her hair, put on makeup, and was smiling. "Wow," Tully said, "you two look great. Please, sit down."
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"Send them in."
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Mr. McAdams held his wife's hand. Together they sat down on the expensive black leather sofa that faced the windows. "We're sorry to bother you. We know how busy you are."
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"Where and when?"
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"I need to talk to you, and not over the phone. Can I buy you a beer?"
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"John is on line one, Tully."
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"Virginia Inn?"
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Her phone rang.
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"Thanks. Put him through." When he came on the line, she said, "Too lazy to walk fifty feet to my office? You must be getting old, Johnny."
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"We just wanted to say thank you," Mrs. McAdams said. "I don't know if you know anyone with a drug or alcohol problem…"
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"We can be mean and selfish and angry and resistant. I wanted to change. Lord knows, I wanted to quit every day, but I didn't. Until you put the spotlight on me and I actually saw my life."
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"Excuse me." She answered it. "What is it?"
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Tully was so moved by their words it took her a moment to respond. "That's what I wanted to do with the live show: change someone's life. It means a lot to me that it worked."
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Tully's smile faded. "I do, actually."
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She laughed. "God, I haven't been there in years."
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"Liar. Come to my office at three-thirty."
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"You can't imagine how you've helped us," Mr. McAdams said. "We just wanted to say thank you."
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"Well," Mr. McAdams said, "we've said what we came to. I hope you can help other folks like you've done for us."
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She hung up the phone and turned her attention back to the McAdamses, who were standing now.
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She went to them, shook their hands. "Thank you. If you don't mind, can I schedule a follow-up show for next year? To show America your progress."
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"Sure."
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She'd done some good with her show. She'd changed the McAdamses' lives.
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At three-thirty, she closed up the folder, grabbed her coat, and went to Johnny's office. Together, talking about ideas for the upcoming shows, they walked up the block toward the Public Market and turned into the dank, smoky bar on the corner.
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She walked them to the door, said goodbye, and went back to her desk. For the next few hours, while she made notes for tomorrow's show, she found herself smiling.
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He led her to the back wall, took a seat at one of the small wooden tables by the window. Before she even sat down, he flagged down a waitress, ordered a Corona for himself and a dirty martini for her. She waited until the drinks were delivered before she said, "Okay, what's wrong?"
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Tully reached for her drink. "You can count on me."
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"Have you thought about boarding school?"
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"Kate would never go." He smiled tiredly at his own joke. "Honest to God, Tully. I'm worried about her. Will you talk to her?"
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He smiled, but it looked tired. "I know that."
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"No. I think she's pissed at me over the concert. Or maybe it's still the modeling thing. Why?"
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"Like a shrink? I don't know."
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"Depression is common in at-home moms. Remember that show we did on it?"
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"Have you talked to Kate lately?"
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He ran a hand through his unruly hair. "I can't believe I'm going to say this about my own daughter, but Marah's being a first-rate bitch. Slamming doors, yelling at her brothers, ignoring her curfew, refusing to do her chores. She and Kate battle all day, every day. It's wearing Kate out. She's lost weight. Isn't sleeping."
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"That's what worries me. I need you to find out if it's something I should worry about or not. You know her so well."
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"Of course, but it sounds like she needs more than a friendly talk. Should she see someone?"
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Tully ended that call and immediately made another one, and then another.
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"You think you can make it work?"
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"She'll tell you she's busy and blow you off."
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"Okay. I'll pack a bag and leave it by the door, then I'll take the kids out so she'll have no excuses." He paused. "Thanks, Tully. She's lucky to have a friend like you."
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On Saturday, Tully called Johnny first thing in the morning. "I've got it," she said when he answered.
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"What are you going to do?"
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"Have you ever seen me fail?"
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"Take her to the Salish Lodge. Get her relaxed and massaged. That sort of thing. And we'll talk."
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"Then I'll kidnap her."
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The front yard had a wild, untended look about it, as if long ago a young mother had spent her spring months outside, planting bulbs and perennials, with her babies in blankets on the grass around her, and over the years, as those kids had grown up and chosen their own summer pursuits, the time for gardening had been lost. All those plants still thrived in the short, hot blast of a Northwest summer, though, returning year after year as reminders of an earlier time, growing up and out and into one another, just like the family that lived in the house. Now, in the midst of a cold, gray November's day, every plant looked leggy and brown. Leaves lay strewn everywhere, multicolored splashes hung on dying roses.
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By nine A. M., she had everything set up. Packing quickly, she threw what she needed in her car and drove to a store on Capitol Hill for a few supplies, then continued to the ferry. The wait on shore and then the crossing seemed to take forever, but eventually she drove into Kate's driveway.
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On the front porch, she squeezed past a freestanding clown/punching bag and knocked on the door.
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Tully parked her Mercedes in front of the garage and got out. As she picked her way through the bikes and skateboards and action figures strewn across the gravel path, she couldn't help admiring how homey this place was, even at this time of year. The shingled house, built in the twenties for a wealthy lumber baron's weekends, wore a new, crisp coat of caramel-hued stain; bright glossy white trim outlined the mullioned windows, beneath which were flower boxes filled with the last blooming geraniums of the season.
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Kate answered, wearing a pair of worn black leggings and an oversized T-shirt. With her blond hair badly in need of both a cut and a color, she looked ragged. Worn out. "Oh," she said, tucking the hair behind her right ear. "What a nice surprise."
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"I'm going to ask you once, nicely, to come with me."
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"What do you mean, come with you? I'm right in the middle of something. The boys' Little League team is having a quilting fundraiser. As soon as I finish --"
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Tully pulled a bright yellow squirt gun out of her pocket and pointed it at Kate. "Don't make me shoot you."
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"Look, I know how much you love drama, but I don't have time for it today. I've got to quilt about fifty bits of fabric before --"
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"What the --"
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"I am."
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Tully pulled the trigger. A stream of cold water snaked through the air and hit Kate full in the chest. Moisture seeped through her cotton T-shirt, leaving a stain.
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"Are you trying to piss me off?"
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She handed Kate a black blindfold. "I had to go into that creepy sex toys store on Capitol Hill for that, so I hope you appreciate it."
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"This is a kidnapping. Don't make me aim for your face, although you appear to need a shower, frankly."
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"No, they won't." Tully looked past her, into the cluttered living room. "There's your suitcase."
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"You're going to shoot me?"
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Kate spun around. "How --"
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Kate looked utterly confused, as if she didn't quite know if she should laugh or be pissed. "I can't just leave. Johnny and the kids will be back in an hour, and I need to --"
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Tully bit back a smile and went into the living room, where she grabbed the suitcase and then gently guided Kate to the car.
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"Johnny packed it this morning. He's my accomplice. Or my alibi, if you give me trouble. Now get your suitcase."
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Tully shook the blindfold. "Put it on or I'm going to shoot you again." She started to squeeze the trigger.
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"You expect me to go somewhere with only the things my husband thinks I need? I'll open that suitcase and find sexy lingerie, a toothbrush, and clothes I outgrew two years ago."
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"It's not every kidnap victim that gets to ride in a Mercedes."
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Finally Kate threw up her hands. "Fine. You win." She put on the blindfold, saying, "You know, of course, that intelligent criminals blindfold their victims before the crime. I think it has something to do with thwarting identification."
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Tully popped a CD into the stereo. Within minutes they were rocketing across the Agate Pass Bridge, and winding their way through the reservation land, where the local tribes' boarded-up fireworks stands lined the highway.
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It was just past two o'clock when Tully pulled into the driveway of their destination. "We're here. The doorman is looking at you funny so you might want to remove the blindfold."
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"That's my business, not yours." Tully turned up the volume on Madonna singing "Papa Don't Preach." In no time at all they were singing along. They knew the words to one song after another, and every song took them back in time to when they were young. Madonna. Chicago. The Boss. The Eagles. Prince. Queen. "Bohemian Rhapsody" was their particular favorite sing-along. They tossed their heads in time with the music in a perfect imitation of Garth and Wayne.
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"Where are we going?" Kate asked.
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Kate whipped it off just as the doorman welcomed her to the Salish Lodge and opened her door. As if from everywhere at once, they could hear the distant roaring of Snoqualmie Falls, but from here they couldn't actually see it. The ground vibrated with the force of the falling water. The air was heavy and moist.
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Tully led the way to the front desk, checked in, and followed the bellman to their room, which was a corner suite with two bedrooms, a fireplace in the sitting room, and view of the rushing, whitecapped Snoqualmie River as it moved toward the falls.
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"Where are we going?" she asked as they walked down the glossy slate floor of the lodge's main floor.
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Kate shrugged and drank up.
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"Don't make me shoot you. I'm running out of water."
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"You'll see."
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"You are insane," Kate said. "I haven't had a straight shot since --"
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As usual, Kate did as she was told.
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In a back corner, they came to a beautiful steaming pool surrounded by Northwest and Asian styled accents. The air smelled of lavender and roses. Lush green plants in ceramic and bronze pots made it almost feel as if you were outdoors.
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"One more," Tully said right away.
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"First things first," Tully said. She'd been on television long enough to know when a script was needed. She'd devised a format and schedule for the entire duration of their stay. She opened her suitcase, pulled out two limes, a shaker of salt, and the most ridiculously overpriced tequila she'd ever seen. "Straight shots."
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"Okay. Bathing suits. Put yours on. There's a robe in your bedroom."
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Kate laughed. "Okay. Pour up, bartender."
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They came to the spa and followed the signs to the hot tub.
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The bellman gave her their spa schedule; she gave him a healthy tip, and then she and Kate were alone.
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They climbed down into the hot, bubbling water.
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Tully stared at her best friend, seeing now, amid the softening curtain of steam, how tired she looked. "You look terrible," she said gently.
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Kate immediately sighed and leaned back. "This is Heaven."
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"She'll grow out of it."
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"That's what everyone says, but I don't believe it. If there was just some way I could force her to talk to me, and to listen. We tried counseling, but she refused to participate."
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Kate opened her eyes slowly. Tully could see anger flash across her face, but as quickly as it flared, it died. "It's Marah. Sometimes when she looks at me, I actually see hate in her eyes. I can't tell you how much that hurts."
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"You can't make a kid open up. Only peer pressure can get them to do anything, right?"
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Tully saw the deep unhappiness in her friend's eyes and although she tried to believe it was just ordinary motherhood stress, suddenly she was afraid. No wonder Johnny was so worried. Last year Tully had interviewed a young mother who was overwhelmed and depressed. A few months after the interview the woman had swallowed a bottle of pills. The very thought of that terrified her. She had to find a way to help Kate. "Maybe you should see someone."
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"Oh, they'll open up. You just can't believe anything they say. According to Marah, I'm the only mother in the world who's so grossly overprotective."
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"You sound like Johnny. I suppose now you're going to tell me that everything would be better if I did all this and wrote a book, too. Well, I tried. I've been trying." Kate's voice broke. Tears welled in her eyes. "Where's the tequila?"
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Tully nodded.
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"You mean a shrink?"
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"Organization is hardly your problem. You don't have to go on every field trip or make costumes for every kid's play or cookies for every bake sale. And they can ride the damn bus to school."
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"I don't need to talk about my problems. I need to be more organized, that's all."
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"Excellent idea. We haven't been totally toasted in years."
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"Like, fer sure." Kate laughed.
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It wasn't enough by a long shot. Tully could see that now. Katie needed real help, not a few shots of tequila and a mud wrap, and she needed her best friend to find the answer. "If you could change one thing in your life, what would it be?"
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"We have massages in thirty minutes, though, so we'll have to wait a while."
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"Massages." Kate looked at her. "Thanks, Tully. I needed this."
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"Marah," she said softly. "I'd get her to talk to me again."
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Hope took ten years off Kate's face. "You think it would work?"
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That tired desperation finally left Kate's eyes. In its stead was a bright anticipation. "What would I do without you, Tully?"
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"Will your makeup people hide my wrinkles?"
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Tully's smile felt too big for her face. She could help her friend through all this, maybe even save her life. Just like they promised all those years ago. "We'll never have to find out."
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Tully laughed. "Believe me, when they get done, you'll look younger than Marah."
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Like magic, Tully knew what to do. "Why don't you come on my show? You and Marah. We'll do a mother-daughter segment. Live would be best so she knows there's no editing. She'll see how much you love her and how lucky she is."
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"You know how badly Marah wants to be on TV. She'd never let herself look bad in front of the camera. She'd have to listen to you then."
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"Perfect."
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Kate returned from the spa with a new attitude. The moment she walked into the house, Marah started in on her, complaining about some event she couldn't attend because of her curfew, but for once the words were arrows that found no target and clattered uselessly to the ground. Soon, Kate thought, smiling to herself, soon we'll find a way back to each other.
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"Did you guys have a good time?" Johnny said, pulling her into his arms.
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She put her clothes away, took a nice long bath, then gathered her boys into her arms for a story. They were just falling asleep when Johnny poked his head in.
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"Tully sent us over to watch the kids for a week. The car outside is going to take you two to the airport. Tully said to pack bathing suits and sunscreen. That's all you get to know."
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"Mom?" Kate said. "What's going on?"
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"Shh," she said, closing the book. Kissing each little forehead, she tucked the boys into bed, then went to her husband.
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"Tully's your boss, isn't she?" Dad said. "I guess if she says you're taking a vacation, you're taking a vacation."
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Johnny and Kate frowned at each other. "It's Sunday night," Kate said. "She's not allowed to have kids over on a school night."
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But when they got downstairs, they saw Mom and Dad in the living room, carrying suitcases.
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Downstairs, the doorbell rang. Marah's voice followed: "I'll get it!"
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"I can't leave work," Johnny said. "We've got Senator McCain on."
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"Great. Tully has a plan --"
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"She doesn't do anything halfway," Johnny said, sliding into the plush, dark interior.
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The car engine started, purred.
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It was where they'd gone on their honeymoon. Kate closed her eyes, picturing the swaying palm trees and pinkish sand of Anini Beach.
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"Do you know where we're going?" Johnny asked the driver.
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Kate and Johnny looked at each other. They'd never taken a vacation away from the kids.
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For the next hour, they ran through the house, packing, making lists, gathering telephone numbers. Then they kissed the kids -- even Marah -- thanked Mom and Dad, and went out to the waiting limousine.
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Kate snuggled beside him. "I feel more relaxed already and we're still in our driveway."
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"It might be nice," he said, smiling.
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"No fair going to sleep," Johnny said.
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"I'm not sleeping." She twisted around, draped herself across his lap. "Thanks for helping Tully to kidnap me."
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"The tickets are in the pocket across from you, sir."
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"I've been worried about you."
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Johnny reached for the envelope, opened it. "Kauai," he said.
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"Are we talking sex?"
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"How much better?"
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"We're talking sex," she said, unbuttoning his shirt. "But if you'd hit the damn button, we'd be doing more than talking."
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"I've been worried about me, too. But I feel better now."
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He smiled slowly. "Oh, I'll hit it."
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She glanced at the open window that separated them from the driver. "Close the window and I'll show you."
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