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Stephanie,” I called after him. But he didn’t hear me.
    I couldn’t wait to tell Rachel and Alison about my morning.

Gena Farrell
    Here’s what we bought for Alison’s room: two lamp shades, one comforter, a set of flowered sheets, four throw pillows, three posters and one box of push pins.
    We shopped all over town, walking from store to store, until my feet ached. Rachel said it was important to see everything available before making a decision. She took notes on what we saw, and where. I hoped we’d run into Jeremy Dragon again but we didn’t. Eventually we wound up where we started, at Bed and Bath. I couldn’t believe how Alison just bought whatever she wanted. Even though the sheets and the throw pillows were on sale, they were still very expensive.Alison charged everything on her mother’s American Express card.
    â€œYou mean she just gave you her credit card …” I asked, “just like that?”
    â€œShe trusts me,” Alison said.
    â€œI know, but still …” I said. “Did she tell you how much you could spend?”
    â€œWe talked about what I needed,” Alison said.
    â€œAt least you got some of it on sale,” Rachel said. “My mother buys everything on sale. And you got very good things. It pays to buy the best because it lasts longer.”
    I don’t necessarily agree with that. Take my flowered sweatshirt. If I had bought the expensive kind I’d be stuck with it as long as it fit. But I bought the rip-off sweatshirt which only cost half as much so when it fell apart in the wash after a couple of months I didn’t mind.
    â€œLet’s meet tomorrow morning at my house,” Alison said, “around eleven. And you guys can help me fix up my room … okay?”
    â€œSure,” I said.
    â€œI’m going to visit my grandmother in the morning,” Rachel said, “but I should be back around noon.”
    Rachel’s grandmother had a stroke last spring. Once, I went with her family to the nursing home, but I got really upset because Rachel’s grandmother couldn’t walk or talk. Rachel saysher grandmother understands everything they say and someday she may even be able to speak again. I don’t know. I hope that never happens to Gran Lola or Papa Jack. It would be too sad.

    On Sunday morning I got to Alison’s house right on the dot of eleven. I rang the bell and a woman opened the door. She was wearing jeans and that red and white T-shirt Alison had been wearing on the day that we met. She looked very familiar.
    â€œHello,” she said, “I’m Alison’s mother. Are you Stephanie?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAlison’s in her room. You can go on up …”
    I started up the stairs. Then Alison’s mother called, “Thanks for helping Alison find such beautiful things yesterday.”
    I stopped and turned at the landing, looking down at her. I know who she looks like, I thought. She looks like Gena Farrell, the TV star.
    I went to Alison’s room. She was unrolling her posters and laying them out on the floor. “Hi,” I said. Maizie was on the bed. She barked at me. “Hello, Maizie.” As soon as I spoke she turned her back. I guess she wasn’t interested in having a conversation.
    â€œYour mother looks a lot like Gena Farrell,” I told Alison.
    â€œI know,” Alison said.
    â€œI guess everybody tells her that.”
    â€œYes. Especially since she is Gena Farrell.”
    â€œYour mother
is
Gena Farrell, the TV star?”
    â€œShe’s an actress,” Alison said, “not a TV star.” She held a poster of Bruce Springsteen against the wall. “What do you think?”
    â€œI can’t believe this!” I said. “Your mother is Gena Farrell and you never said anything?”
    â€œWhat should I have said?” Alison asked, holding up a second poster. This one showed a gorilla lying on