small talk, she made
her excuses and left.
She breathed far easier after driving out the gate and heading
down the winding road out of the rarefied air of the Studio City
hills to the bank of smog in the flatlands of North Hollywood.
One thing was certain: She wouldn’t step foot over the threshold
when she returned to pick up Carolyn.
8 5
T H E
S C A R L E T
T H R E A D
Sighing, Sierra focused her thoughts on Alex. He actually
had an afternoon free, and they were going to spend it together.
When he had asked her if she’d like to do so, quick tears of gratitude had sprung to her eyes. It had been so long since they’d
really been together, just the two of them. Maybe this would be
a chance for them to bridge the chasm that had developed
between them. Sierra wasn’t sure if they could, but she wanted
to. Oh, how she wanted to.
When she unlocked the door and went inside, she felt almost
lighthearted. “Alex? I’m home,” she called.
Silence met her.
“Alex?” she said again, going into the kitchen. The room was
empty, but there was a note on the refrigerator. Cold fingers of
disappointment closed around her heart as she moved forward
and took it down.
Sierra,
Steve called. A big client is in town unexpectedly, so
we’re taking him out to dinner. I’ll probably be home late.
That was it. I’m gone, I’ll be home late. No apology. No regret
at not being able to spend time with her.
Angry, Sierra crumpled up the note and tossed it into the garbage. She vacuumed, dusted, and made preparations for dinner
for three. She considered changing her clothes before going back
to pick up Carolyn, and then rebelled against the idea. She was
who she was. Besides, even dressed up she wouldn’t fit in with
that crowd.
Steeling herself, she headed back to Studio City. As she pulled
up before the palatial house, she saw that all the cars were exactly
where they were when she had left three hours before. Apparently, they had all stayed through the entire party, sharing the
catered hors d’oeuvres and luncheon and the beautifully deco8 6
T H E
W I L D E R N E S S
rated cake, and enjoying the magician who had come to make
sure the children were properly entertained. She got out of her
car as several of the women and their little girls came out, each
child holding a bag of party favors.
“Our girls are playing in the family room,” Marcia said, greeting her at the front door.
“I’m sorry if I’m late.”
“You’re not late at all. Come in, please. Would you like some
coffee?”
“Thank you, but I’d better not. I’m in something of a rush. I
need to pick up Clanton soon.”
Marcia’s expression flickered with understanding and disappointment; it was an excuse, and both women knew it. “I’ll show
you the way,” she said quietly. “Pamela loved the treasure box
and scarf.”
Polite to the end, Sierra thought sarcastically, then felt a
twinge of shame for her critical attitude. Shrew, she chastised herself. Marcia’s shown you nothing but kindness. But then, maybe you
don’t know how to react to kindness anymore. . . .
The girls were leaning close together and talking like little
conspirators. To Sierra’s surprise and pleasure, Pamela was
bedecked in the scarf and jewelry. Carolyn laughed happily at
what her friend was saying and then noticed her. “Oh,
Mommy,” she said, obviously disappointed. “Couldn’t I stay a
while longer? Please?”
“We have to go, Carolyn.”
“Clanton’s staying at—”
“Now, Carolyn.”
Carolyn rose obediently. Remembering her manners, she
thanked Pamela and her mother for the lovely time and for the
bag of party favors and treats.
“Why don’t we get together sometime?” Marcia said as they
walked back upstairs.
8 7
T H E
S C A R L E T
T H R E A D
“That’d be nice,” Sierra said, giving the proper innocuous
response. She knew sometime meant never. The girls were talking again and going ahead of
her excuses and left.
She breathed far easier after driving out the gate and heading
down the winding road out of the rarefied air of the Studio City
hills to the bank of smog in the flatlands of North Hollywood.
One thing was certain: She wouldn’t step foot over the threshold
when she returned to pick up Carolyn.
8 5
T H E
S C A R L E T
T H R E A D
Sighing, Sierra focused her thoughts on Alex. He actually
had an afternoon free, and they were going to spend it together.
When he had asked her if she’d like to do so, quick tears of gratitude had sprung to her eyes. It had been so long since they’d
really been together, just the two of them. Maybe this would be
a chance for them to bridge the chasm that had developed
between them. Sierra wasn’t sure if they could, but she wanted
to. Oh, how she wanted to.
When she unlocked the door and went inside, she felt almost
lighthearted. “Alex? I’m home,” she called.
Silence met her.
“Alex?” she said again, going into the kitchen. The room was
empty, but there was a note on the refrigerator. Cold fingers of
disappointment closed around her heart as she moved forward
and took it down.
Sierra,
Steve called. A big client is in town unexpectedly, so
we’re taking him out to dinner. I’ll probably be home late.
That was it. I’m gone, I’ll be home late. No apology. No regret
at not being able to spend time with her.
Angry, Sierra crumpled up the note and tossed it into the garbage. She vacuumed, dusted, and made preparations for dinner
for three. She considered changing her clothes before going back
to pick up Carolyn, and then rebelled against the idea. She was
who she was. Besides, even dressed up she wouldn’t fit in with
that crowd.
Steeling herself, she headed back to Studio City. As she pulled
up before the palatial house, she saw that all the cars were exactly
where they were when she had left three hours before. Apparently, they had all stayed through the entire party, sharing the
catered hors d’oeuvres and luncheon and the beautifully deco8 6
T H E
W I L D E R N E S S
rated cake, and enjoying the magician who had come to make
sure the children were properly entertained. She got out of her
car as several of the women and their little girls came out, each
child holding a bag of party favors.
“Our girls are playing in the family room,” Marcia said, greeting her at the front door.
“I’m sorry if I’m late.”
“You’re not late at all. Come in, please. Would you like some
coffee?”
“Thank you, but I’d better not. I’m in something of a rush. I
need to pick up Clanton soon.”
Marcia’s expression flickered with understanding and disappointment; it was an excuse, and both women knew it. “I’ll show
you the way,” she said quietly. “Pamela loved the treasure box
and scarf.”
Polite to the end, Sierra thought sarcastically, then felt a
twinge of shame for her critical attitude. Shrew, she chastised herself. Marcia’s shown you nothing but kindness. But then, maybe you
don’t know how to react to kindness anymore. . . .
The girls were leaning close together and talking like little
conspirators. To Sierra’s surprise and pleasure, Pamela was
bedecked in the scarf and jewelry. Carolyn laughed happily at
what her friend was saying and then noticed her. “Oh,
Mommy,” she said, obviously disappointed. “Couldn’t I stay a
while longer? Please?”
“We have to go, Carolyn.”
“Clanton’s staying at—”
“Now, Carolyn.”
Carolyn rose obediently. Remembering her manners, she
thanked Pamela and her mother for the lovely time and for the
bag of party favors and treats.
“Why don’t we get together sometime?” Marcia said as they
walked back upstairs.
8 7
T H E
S C A R L E T
T H R E A D
“That’d be nice,” Sierra said, giving the proper innocuous
response. She knew sometime meant never. The girls were talking again and going ahead of
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