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debris. From Green Acres on, everyone in the house seemed happier and more relaxed than usual. Jimmy and Dr. Cone did therapy on the beach, but itwas intermittent and brief. They had a spot between two sand dunes that they called “the Office.” They’d laid down a bedsheetthere that was quickly half covered with sand.

Sheba and Mrs. Cone and Izzy and I set up chairs and towels and a cooler on the first stretch of dry sand in front of thewater, directly in line with the Office. When I turned around, I could see Jimmy eating Screaming Yellow Zonkers, nodding as Dr. Cone talked, or sometimes talkingas Dr. Cone nodded. Every now and then he put down the snacks and lay on the sheet, curled up on his side. I got nervous whenhe did that, but he didn’t look like he was in pain, or crying.

Sheba and Mrs. Cone abandoned all wigs, as the beach really was private. We could see anyone coming from way down it, and whenever we did, Sheba would slip on a pair of sunglasses that covered her face from her eyebrows to her lips. She’d put on a hat, too, to hide all that long, thick black hair. Mrs. Cone often put on shades and a hat when Sheba did. “In case it’s someone I know,” she said to me once.

Izzy and I dug holes, built sandcastles, and went in and out of the water. Sheba and Mrs. Cone also took Izzy in the water,which gave me time to sit and read my book. I’d found the book Jaws on a shelf in the living room of the house. It was about a shark attack on a beach on Long Island, but it didn’t make me afraidto go in the water.

Whenever Jimmy and Dr. Cone weren’t in the Office, they were on the beach too. Jimmy liked taking Izzy in the water. He’d throw her up in the air and catch her again. Dr. Coneread his book and often napped with a baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes.

Every day, Jimmy went for a walk alone, to clear his head. Before he took off, he pulled out his shorts pockets—when he waswearing shorts instead of a suit—and presented his behind to Dr. Cone to pat. After the pat down, Izzy and I would go up tothe house and make dinner. I liked our time in the kitchen. After a day in the sun and water, there was a peacefulness tothe warm kitchen, the quiet of the house, the stillness of the air.

I gave Izzy a bath every night following dinner and then put her to bed in our room. Once she was asleep, I joined the adults in the living room, or on the screened porch. They listened to music, or Jimmy strummed his guitar. Jimmy and Dr. Cone each had a cup of tea, Mrs. Cone and Sheba drank wine, and a joint circulated. Dr. Cone, like me, didn’t smoke, though once I saw him take a single puff just before he went to bed. And another night, I cleared the teacups and smelled something funny in Dr. Cone’s cup. I suspected he was pretending not to drink, so Jimmy wouldn’t be the only adult without alcohol.

Jaws was always on my lap at these living room hangouts, but usually the conversation was so engaging that I didn’t read. Shebatalked the most. She once named every famous person she’d had sex with and also told us how big each man’s penis was and whatit looked like. She said one looked like it had knuckles under the skin, one was the size of her pinkie, one smelled likeham and was the color of ham, and one was angled to the right like it was pointing out directions. I had no idea that peniseswere that variegated. One movie star, an action guy, had a penis so big, Sheba couldn’t put it in her vagina. I hadn’t knownwho some of the stars were, but now I’d never be able to watch any of their movies or TV shows without pulling up the imageof their penis.

Of the star with the enormous penis, Jimmy said, “I’m bigger than him, but then she had a little surgery to let me in andnow it’s all good.” Everyone laughed at that, so I knew it was a joke.

Mrs. Cone asked Jimmy if he’d made love to as many stars as Sheba. Jimmy took a hit off the joint, furrowed his brow, andlooked like he was thinking. Then he said, “You know, Bonnie, I just don’t fucking remember. No idea. Drug brain. Before Iwas with Sheba, the way I’d know I’d fucked someone was that she’d be in my bedroom or the hotel bed or on the tour bus inthe morning. Sometimes I’d sense I’d been with someone, so I’d check my back in the mirror. If I didn’t see scratch marks,then I’d sniff my fingers.”

Everyone laughed, but I didn’t get it.

“You remember the girl you lost your virginity to,” Sheba said. “And you remember sleeping with Margaret Trudeau.”

“Well, yeah, there are people who stand out—”

“You slept with Margaret Trudeau!” Mrs. Cone leaned forward in her chair.

“You didn’t forget Streisand,” Sheba said.

“No one forgets Streisand.” Jimmy winked at Sheba and she laughed. I was surprised she didn’t get jealous. But maybe whenyou were Sheba, and every man in the world wanted to make love to you, you didn’t get jealous.

“Miss March,” Sheba said, and she put her hands in front of her chest to indicate breasts that jutted out about three feet.

“I think you’re thinking of Miss June.”

“Miss May.”

“There was a run of four Playmates,” Jimmy conceded. “I believe it was June, July, August, and September.”

“Did you save the issues?” Dr. Cone asked. I thought he was kidding, but I couldn’t be sure.

“The only issue he has is the one I was in.” Sheba moved from her chair to the ground in front of Jimmy’s legs. She wrappedher arms around his calves.

“That’s the

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