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Mary Jane!” Mrs. Cone said, “I was talking to Richard this morning and he wanted me to tell you that that key hook youtalked him into buying is working wonderfully. He only misplaced his keys once this week.”

“That’s so great!” I had seen the ceramic placque with hooks on it at Gundy’s Gifts around the corner from Eddie’s. When I told Dr. Cone about it, he had nodded in a resigned sort of way, but then he drove over there and bought it.

“IS DADDY COMING TODAY?” Izzy shouted from upstairs. As far as I knew, Dr. and Mrs. Cone saw each other several times a week.And every time I was at one house, the other called. I didn’t know anyone whose parents had divorced, but still I’d neverimagined it was like this. Instead of a drawn-out tug-of-war between two people who wanted to destroy each other, the Cones’divorce appeared to be a gentle rearrangement of housing and time.

“NO!” Mrs. Cone hollered toward the stairway. Then she looked at me and my mother and said, “You know, Richard still getsjealous over Jimmy. Can you believe that? He needs to understand that I wasn’t the only person who fell in love with him.That man casts a spell on everyone who meets him.”

“I love him, but I wasn’t in love with him,” I said.

My mother laughed nervously. “Oh, let’s hope not!”

Mrs. Cone laughed, not nervously. “No, Mary Jane was the most sane person in the house. She was the adult while the rest ofus were throwing temper tantrums, playing dress-up, fooling around. You know.” Mrs. Cone shrugged.

My mother took a giant gulp of creamy coffee. Then she said, “Mary Jane is always so reasonable.”

Izzy skipped into the room holding a black plastic tape recorder. She clunked it on the table so hard, the cookies shiftedon the plate.

“You push here and here and it records.” Izzy pushed. “We’re recording now, see?”

“Almost time.” My mother glanced at her watch again. She was pursing her lips as if she were holding in her excitement.

Izzy turned up the volume on the radio. We waited through the end of “Rhinestone Cowboy” and then Casey Kasem came on, speakingin his nasally, snappy voice. “A stunning achievement for thirty-three-year-old West Virginian Jimmy Bendinger—”

“JIMMY!” Izzy whisper-screamed. She sat on the seat beside me. Mrs. Cone was across from me, and my mother was on my otherside.

Casey Kasem continued, “Bendinger dropped out of high school and moved to New York City, where he lived in a warehouse in the Meatpacking District with Stan Fry and JJ Apodoca. Fry and Apodoca had moved to New York from Newport, Rhode Island, where they surfed together and attended the prestigious St. George’s School. Fry had just finished his studies at Columbia University, where he’d majored in economics. Apodoca had also been admitted to Columbia, but failed to attend even the first day. The three of them wrote songs while Fry and Apodoca waited tables. Bendinger, a self-described introvert, tried to wait tables but found talking to customers too much of a strain. Instead he wrote more songs, and eventually sold several of his solo efforts to Bonnie Louise, the Suarez Brothers, and Josh LaLange. With money coming in from the songs, these boys bought themselves new instruments: Bendinger an electric guitar, Fry new keyboards, and Apodoca an electric bass guitar. The only problem was, they needed a drummer. When they brought in Stan Fuller, Fry’s former roommate at Columbia, Running Water was born. It wasn’t long before the hits started coming. Most previous Running Water songs are credited to Bendinger, Fry, and Apodoca. On this new album, Fuller is gone, replaced by Finn Martel of Philadelphia, the former drummer of Kratom Runs. Six of the twelve new songs are credited solely to Bendinger, who might be finding inspiration from his glamorous wife, the starlet of a single name, Sheba. Though the title track of this album was clearly written under the influence of a different girl, a muse, someone whose many great talents and Baltimore roots are hailed in the song. Her identity remains a mystery, however, as Bendinger is as private as he is talented.”

Izzy, Mrs. Cone, and my mother all looked at me, grinning expectantly. I was smiling so hard that the edges of my mouth shook.

A drumroll played. Izzy opened her smiling mouth wider; her eyes were enormous. She reached out and took my hand. I lookedto my mother, stuck out my hand, and she took it. Mrs. Cone put out both of her hands and completed the circle so we wereall connected.

“Moving up from the number two spot, here is the most popular song in the land, written and produced by Jimmy Bendinger. At number one, Running Water’s ‘Mary Jane.’”

The drums clicked. The guitar and keyboards joined in. I was biting my bottom lip. My mother squeezed my hand.

“Mary Jane!” Jimmy sang. And the four of us sang along.

Acknowledgments

I am so grateful for all the innovative, industrious, and talented people at HarperCollins and Custom House. Special thanksto Liate Stehlik, Jennifer Hart, Eliza Rosenberry, Danielle Finnegan, Rachel Meyers, Elsie Lyons, Paula Szafranski, KaitlinSeverini, Gabriel Barillas, all the hardworking salespeople I have yet to meet, and Molly Gendell.

I have endless love for the following people who offered support, advice, friendship, wisdom, and their faces onscreen during COVID times as I worked on this book: Celia-Kim Allouche; Sally Beaton; Paula Bomer; Fran Brennan; Jane Delury; Larry Doyle; Lindsay, Bruce, and Emily Fleming; Liz Hazen; Lisa Hill; Holly Jones; Matt Klam; Deana Kolencikova; Dylan Landis; Marcia Lerner; Boo Lunt; Jim Magruder; Helen Makohon; Steve, Finn, and Phoebe Martel; Scott Price; the Rende Family; Danny Rosenblatt; Claire Stancer; the Treat-Laguens family; Tracy Walder; Tracy Wallace; Marion Winik; and all the generous people of La Napoule Art Foundation. Also, huge love to my goddaughters, Addie Fleming and Sydney Rende.

And endless love and affection to my hilarious family: Maddie

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