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and I’ve done something to my neck.”
    “Oh, poor Mommy!”
    Laura’s words were muffled. Faye could hear her repeating the information to Lars.
    “Listen, Mommy,” Laura said, clear once again. “We’re going to grab a cab to the house. I want you to hang up now and phone your neighbors. Have someone get over there—”
    “Darling, I can wait until you and Lars get here.”
    “No, Mommy,” Laura insisted. “You need to get medical attention as soon as possible. I don’t want you lying on the cold kitchen floor, and if you’ve injured yourself, you’ll need to have it taken care of as soon as possible. Who knows how long it’s going to take us to get a cab here at the airport the day before Christmas? You should absolutely
not
wait.”
    Faye was speechless. Who
was
this person ordering her around? Three years ago, Laura had been a neurotic mass of indecision. Obviously motherhood had opened up new pathways in her brain.
    “I hate to bother people on Christmas Eve,” Faye equivocated. “And I haven’t really gotten to know anyone well enough—”
    “Then phone 911.”
    Who are you and what have you done with the real
Laura?
Faye wanted to demand. “Oh, Laura, surely that’s a little dramatic.”
    “Mom. Can you stand up? No, right? That’s not dramatic. That’s real. Your health is real. Why do you think there’s a 911 in the first place? I’m going to hang up now. You phone 911. I’ll phone you back in a few minutes.” Decisively, she clicked off.
    Faye felt like a giant tuna as she lay gasping on the kitchen floor. A really
pissed-off
giant tuna. She understood that Laura was trying to be helpful, but did she have to sound so bossy? Her daughter had been so officious! She’d made Faye feel like a child. A helpless, indecisive, pathetic little child! I’ll be
damned,
Faye thought perversely, if I’m going to dial 911. She wasn’t exactly old, feeble, and desolate! She had a gentleman friend— although she didn’t want Aubrey to see her like this, a quivering pile of helpless blubber. Well, she had her Hot Flash friends—Polly! Polly was dating Hugh, who was a doctor!
    She pressed the dial button for Polly.
    The answering machine came on. Cheerful Polly had taped a few measures of Christmas carols before and after her message, and Faye nearly snarled with impatience as she waited for the beep.
    “Polly? It’s Faye, and I’ve done something really stupid. I’ve fallen, and I think I hurt my neck, and I was wondering whether Hugh might be there, perhaps he could suggest something . . .”
    Faye clicked off. Who knew when Polly would get the message? Maybe she was better, now that she’d rested. She tried to sit up. Her neck made her literally scream with pain.
Fine!
She punched Alice’s number.
    “Hello?”
    Thank God! Alice was home. She listened to Faye’s appeal, and broke into a hearty laugh. “I told you Christmas sucks! I’ll be right there.”
    Laura called again. “Mom, we’re in line to get a cab. Looks like it will be a twenty-minute wait. Did you phone 911?”
    “Help is on the way,” Faye dissembled. “Now, darling, I’ll probably be gone when you get here, so the spare key is under the porcupine boot-scraper on the front stoop—”
    “Gee, Mom, why don’t you just paint a sign:
Want to
burgle me? Look in the most obvious place!
”
    Faye swallowed a retort. “Your beds are all made up, and the food for the party is completely prepared.” Without warning, an enormous wave of self-pity swept up through her chest. She burst into tears.
    “Mommy?” Laura’s voice softened.
    “I won’t be here to see Megan see her bedroom and her little tree!” Faye cried.
    “Well, of course you will,” Laura said sensibly. “Your injuries don’t sound life-threatening. Look, Mommy, don’t worry about anything. Just focus on taking care of yourself, okay?”
    “Okay,” Faye agreed. She knew Laura was being kind, but her words made her feel like some kind of decrepit