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about a white plastic tree with blue ornaments. I must have been out of my mind. It doesn’t give off one bit of Christmas cheer, at least none that I’ve ever noticed. Less to pack, Dolly. Anything that’s artificial, get rid of it. If I’m going to move into the real world, I don’t want any leftovers from this world. Next Christmas we’ll order a real live tree from Oregon and lots and lots of garlands to hang everywhere. Evergreens that smell good. No matter what or where we lived, my mother always insisted on a real Christmas tree. I hope next Christmas is better than this one.”
    Dolly ripped a strip of packing tape from the roll. “If you’re in a better frame of mind than this year, it’ll be great. Did you hear anything more on the house?”
    “As a matter of fact, I did. Max called me this morning and made an offer. Twice what it’s worth. He said he wants it for his wife’s mother. I don’t know if I believe him or not. I know Max—he wants to make sure I’m taken care of. He’s such a decent person. In the end, I’m sure I’ll sell to him because it will make life simpler. When we leave at the end of the month we won’t look back.”
    “Are you all right with the move, Ariel? Things have moved so fast, and I worry that you might have regrets. In twenty-nine days we’re moving, lock, stock, and barrel, as they say. You’ve been through a lot these past few months and it isn’t too late to change your mind.”
    How worried she sounds, Ariel thought. As concerned as Max sounded. Didn’t they have any faith? Do they think I can’t manage my life? “Yes, it’s too late, and I have no intention of changing my mind because I realize this is best for me. I’m just sorry I didn’t do it two years ago. I do regret getting everyone stirred up about Perfect Productions. The truth is, it wouldn’t have worked. Knowing me, I would have run myself into the ground in six months. And I would have used a lot of energy trying to stay away from people so they wouldn’t pity me. That I couldn’t handle. Since my options are limited, I’m looking at this as an adventure. Or, the beginning of the second half of my life.”
    “Then I say, okay. Let’s roll, baby,” Dolly said as she bent over to drag the white Christmas tree to the sliding door where she gave it a shove. The casters on the tree stand sped across the flagstone patio. Both women clapped their hands in glee.
    “Decision number one. Accomplished! Let’s get rid of all these ricky-ticky decorations. We’ll get new stuff next year. Stuff that has some meaning to it. You know, things people make. Ken’s bringing the pictures of our new house. It has a guest cottage on the premises. Five bedrooms, oversize den, library, Mexican kitchen, whatever that means. An Olympic-size swimming pool, tennis court, Japanese garden. A front porch. Honest, Dolly, a real front porch with rocking chairs and all kinds of green plants. He said it was gorgeous and half the price of this one. Taxes are good, he said. Oh, it has four fireplaces and you know how I love fireplaces. A dual one in the kitchen and dining room, one in the den, one in the family room, and one in my bedroom. We can put one in your room if you like. You know, in case you get the romantic urge to entertain and have a fire going. They do it in the movies all the time.”
    “Forget the fireplace. If I ever find someone I want to go to bed with I’ll use the guest house so I can make him breakfast.”
    “That’s a hoot, Dolly. This is the 90’s. He makes breakfast for you, and do you know how I know that? I read that in not one, but two of the scripts that came in.”
    “I’ll bear it in mind. This is the last box for this room. Do you want to start on another room or wait until after Mr. Lamantia leaves? How about if I make some hot pepperoni bread? I think it will go better with the vegetable soup than tuna, and it will be done by the time Mr. Lamantia gets here. There’s some