They fired you while you were on your honeymoon? Bea was incredulous. How low can you get?

You know you're next, Roxie said to Bea. Sports and comics may be the last to go, but they'll go. We might as well admit itnewspapers are dead.

The women walked a few moments in silence, and Ginger thought it felt like their own private memorial service for the San Francisco Herald. She was a grand old lady, Ginger said. That job ended up being the longest and most fulfilling relationship of my life.

She's been awfully good to me, too, Bea said.

I really loved my job, Josie added.

Fuck 'em, Roxanne said.

Ginger then steered the conversation to the honeymoon, and Josie enthusiastically regaled them with tales from her trip. It had been Josie's dream to travel to the North Pole ever since she wrote the obituary for Gloria Needleman's adventurer husband, Ira. When she mentioned this dream to Rick, he made elaborate plans to take her there for their honeymoon.

Josie told them that once they were aboard the nuclear-powered icebreaker out of Norway, the captain and crew were shocked to hear it was the couple's honeymoon. Why? the captain asked, perplexed. I hear Florida is really quite nice. Josie described the thrill of setting foot on the precise geographic North Pole and talked about their private flight to view ringed seals, polar bears, and arctic fox. She explained the odd glow of Arctic twilight and their four days of luxury in an ice hotel in northern Sweden. You haven't slept until you've slugged four shots of vodka, then crawled under a stack of reindeer hide, Josie said, laughing.

I think I'll pass, Ginger said.

The vodka part sounds okay, Bea said.

Josie's attention eventually turned to Ginger. So what's this about Lucky Montevez?

Oh, it's nothing, Ginger said, bending down to retrieve HeatherLynn, who immediately curled up in the crook of her arm. He's branching out into pet photography and said he'd take a portrait of me and HeatherLynn.

Josie's eyes got big. Seriously? Pet portraits? Are you sure about that?

Yes. Anyone else interested? Ginger looked around the group. He said he would appreciate me hooking him up with other clients.

Interesting, Josie said, swinging Genghis's leash at her side while her dog ran free, her brain obviously hard at work. So how well have you two gotten to know each other?

Ginger pursed her lips, trying not to let the panic show on her face. That was an interesting way to frame her dilemma, wasn't it? She didn't know Lucio Montevez at all, but, oh, did she know him.

We're casual acquaintances, Ginger said.

Bea snorted again. Except for the part where he ripped off your dress and kissed you senseless.

Puh-leeze! Ginger tried to shout over Roxie's and Bea's laughter. She immediately turned her efforts to reassuring a startled-looking Josie.

There's a perfectly logical explanation, Ginger said, tossing back her hair. I should never have ordered my bridesmaid dress in a size four. It was too tight. I blacked out. LuckyI mean Luciocarried me to my room and unzipped my dress so that I could breathe. It was nothing.

Josie tried very hard to look unaffected. Oh, she said. Okay.

I'm pretty sure I read a paperback with that exact plot back in high school, Roxie said. My mom didn't want me reading trashy romances so I kept them hidden in a gym bag with my old soccer cleats.

Was it Breathless Passion in His Arms? Josie asked, excited. I read that one, too! It was my favorite!

No, no, no, Bea said, hardly able to stop herself from snorting in advance of her punch line. The title was The Night She Got Lucky!

Everyone laughed. Everyone but Ginger, who was thinking that the girls had no flippin' idea just how lucky she'd been. And they'd never know the truth. They couldn't handle the truth.

When Josie stopped giggling she shook her head in wonder. My God, she said with a sigh. I go on one measly little six-week honeymoon to the North Pole and all hell breaks loose.

To celebrate the end of Josh's all-liquid diet, Ginger told him she'd make him anything he wanted for dinneranything soft. He said he wanted chicken enchiladas with rice and beans.

It would be her pleasure, she said.

The boys retreated to the family room to watch the 49ers exhibition game while Ginger cooked. Their game-watching included bouts of arguing, but at least it was at the usual decibel level and there were no sounds of fists striking flesh. Ginger had to admit it had been nice to see Jason treat his brother with deference these past ten days. She didn't delude herself, however. The kindness wouldn't last, especially since Joshua had been determined to suck every drop of benefit from his brother's guilty conscience. For a week now, Jason had not only been whipping up his brother's made-to-order smoothies, he'd also been doing Josh's laundry and making his bed. But now that Josh had gotten the word that his teeth were fine and he could go back to real food, Ginger knew things would return to normal.

She opened the pantry and cursed under her breath. She usually kept a couple cans of organic refried beans on hand, but she couldn't seem to find them. Josh strolled into the kitchen as Ginger began to pull out cans of soup and tuna and jars of peanut butter.

What you looking for, Mumu? Need help reaching something?

Ginger smiled at her son, the future president of the United States, whose speech was markedly less slurred. Refried beans. I thought for sure I bought some.

Oh, Jason said, entering the kitchen behind his brother. I think I ate 'em last night.

Ginger frowned, not recalling that she'd seen him make a snack. Both cans? When was that?

Jason shrugged. I don't knowone or two in the morning, I guess, whenever it was I woke up starving. I heated them in the microwave and scooped them up with Cheetos and saltines.

Ginger shuddered at the thought. At least he'd cleaned up after himself.

I'll go get some, Joshua said. Be right back.

He was back in about ten minutes, two cans of refried beans in his hands. Here you go, Mumu. How long till we eat?

Thanks, honey, she said, immediately rinsing off the lids and sticking them under the magnet of the electric can opener. By the time you guys set the table and get your drinks, it'll be time to eat.

The doorbell rang. Both her sons looked out to the foyer quizzically. HeatherLynn let loose with a series of high-pitched yaps usually reserved for the most special occasions, such as the arrival of the FedEx man.

See who that is, please, Jason.

Ginger dumped the beans into a pot and set them on low. With a wooden spoon she stirred in some shredded cheese, diced jalapenos, and salsa to add a little zing.

Hey, Mom? Jason called from the foyer.

Who in the world is that? Josh mumbled from behind Ginger's shoulder.

Who is it, honey? she called to Jason.

Buenos tardes, Senora Garrison, said the sultry voice.

She dropped the wooden spoon to the floor. Refried beans splattered everywhere.

Unexpected. Fun. Entertaining. Charming. Ginger leaned back in her dining room chair and tried to think of how she'd describe this impromptu dinner with Lucio Montevez as the guest of honor. She'd need to come up with something, because, without a doubt, she'd be telling Josie, Roxie, and Bea about it on Monday morning's walk.

She hadn't seen her boys this animated in years. Joshua had been pumping Lucio for details about his travels and the heads of state and foreign officials he'd met over the years. Jason grilled Lucio for information on lenses, filters, and tripodsthings Ginger didn't even know he had an interest in.

HeatherLynn had curled up in Lucio's lap soon after they'd sat down at the table and she hadn't budged since. Lucio occasionally stroked her ears, her head, her back. The little dog looked like she'd died and gone to heaven.