By A Spider's Thread

Wasn't Tess's refusal to do anything simply the other side of Mark Rubin's misguided belief that he could control everything? The fact was, Tess had resented Mark's passionate quest for Natalie because she wanted Crow to pursue her, to fight for her, to engage in some way, any way. Fu

y-they were so good in a crisis, when they had to bond together, so fragile when it came to day-to-day life. Instead of trying to work out their problems, they had gone to their respective corners to sulk. Crow had a right to such immaturity, but Tess was thirty-three now. She needed to be a bit more adult.

The car arrived at the Peabody Library. The front doors were thrown open, and a beautiful square of yellow light shimmered in the night. The book-filled rooms at the top of the short flight of stairs seemed to hold all that anyone could ask for of life-family, friends, good music, delicious food. Rubik's Cube solved at last, at least on this face. Who knew what the other five sides looked like?

As Tess started to get out of the car, this time remembering to keep her knees together, she realized she must experience the evening not only for herself but also for her virtual clan, the SnoopSisters. Susan in Omaha would want to hear about the rare books in the Peabody's stacks. Letha in St. Louis would be curious about the people-what they did and what they wore. Margie Ly

in California would be filled with questions about the menu, while Gretchen would bluntly demand to know the cost of the whole affair. And yes, they also would want to know what happened to Tess in the next moment. For the SnoopSisters had been privy to Tess's secret all these weeks, and they had given her that rarest combination of friendly commiseration-pure empathy and no advice. They deserved to be the first to know what she had decided. Well, maybe the second.

She stopped on the sidewalk, digging her cell phone out of the ridiculously small evening bag Kitty and her mother had insisted she carry. Tess had wanted to use a knapsack-a small one, to be sure, by a name designer-but Kitty assumed she was just trying to sneak her Beretta into the ceremony. This dinky thing barely accommodated her keys, phone, and lipstick. No room for the second phone, the one she used for outgoing calls, so she had to use the one whose number she always safeguarded. But that was okay. Tess didn't mind if this particular person had her number.

An answering machine picked up. "Call me on this phone when you have time to talk. Please. No matter how late, no matter how early." Then she climbed the stairs and entered a fragrant room that contained almost-almost-everything she wanted.

***