Free Dial H for Hitchcock by Susan Kandel

me how to retrieve these photos I took the other day. I was on a hike and got some really beautiful nature shots. I’d love to show them to you and Annie. Maybe make Christmas cards with them. I was thinking a nice collage.”
    “Since when do you make Christmas cards?” Annie looked dubious.
    “I love art.”
    “Christmas cards aren’t art. They’re crafts. You hate crafts.”
    “I crocheted that oven mitt.”
    Annie put her hands on her hips. “When you were nine.”
    “Enough,” said Vincent. “I’d be happy to show you when I’m done giving the kids their baths.”
    Annie sidled up to her husband and slipped the phone into the back pocket of his jeans. “There goes the rest of our evening.”
    “I heard that,” I said.
    “How about I sit here for a minute, then,” Vincent said, handing me the baby and walking over to his computer, “and just e-mail them to you? Then you can peruse them at your leisure.”
    “Works for me,” I said, counting Radha’s beautiful toes. Ten.
    Annie poured our drinks and sat down.
    “I’m just so relieved,” she said, exhaling. “You know, I used to be worried about what would happen if Roxana ever did come back.”
    Roxana was Alexander’s biological mother. “I know.”
    “But that’s all over now.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Yeah. Because I’m the one Alexander goes to for a hug when he falls down. And I’m the one who tucks him in at night. And I’m the one who knows his favorite color is green.”
    She was still trying to convince herself. I could hear it in her voice.
    “Did I ever tell you, Mom, that he’s the only kid in his whole school who knows the names of all the knights of the round table?”
    “You told me,” I said. “He’s an amazing child. And so are you,” I said, kissing the baby. “You, too,” I said to Annie.
    And so she was. When I first left my ex and we came out to Los Angeles, I was a wreck. Annie got herself up for school every day, made her own lunches, did her homework, got herself ready for bed. All I had the energy for was gin rummy. I used to play with my grandmother when I was little. Gin rummy made me feel safe. So Annie played with me every night for six months. After that, she said it was time to pull myself together. The first thing we did was go to the nursery together and pick out two tiny citrus trees, an orange and a lemon. We had a little ceremony and planted them next to each other in the backyard. The sour with the sweet, she’d said.
    “Speaking of knights, how’s Lael?” Lael had made a cake for Alexander’s last birthday party that was shaped like a jousting tent, with banners and flags and a solid peanut butter knight. One boy in his class couldn’t attend because of life-threatening allergies. “Have you made up with her yet?”
    “No.”
    “That’s crazy.”
    “All done,” said Vincent.
    “What a day,” said Annie. “Am I right?”
    “What a day,” her husband echoed. He dropped the phone back into my purse and took the baby. “Almost out of juice.”
    “The baby?” I asked.
    Vincent smiled. “Your phone.”
    “Mom. About Lael.”
    “I’m going to call her soon.” I drained the rest of my coffee and stood up. “I’ve just been so busy since I came back from the cruise.”
    “With what? The book? How is it going?”
    “You’re sweet to ask,” I said. “It’s going great.”
    I do not believe a parent owes a child the unvarnished truth. Annie needed to get involved in another one of my crises like she needed a hole in the head.
    “I’ve got to run,” I said. “Congratulations to you both.”
    As I was leaving, my daughter gave me a hug and pressed one of her famous carob and tofu loaves into my hands. The thing weighed at least ten pounds. As I sprinted to the car, I dropped it, then my purse, and finally my brand-new BlackBerry, which bounced once, then rolled out into oncoming traffic, where a Hummer going double the speed limit pulverized it. And I hadn’t even filled out