Claire popped up from the nap-time corner with a sleepy Reagan in her arms. “Okay, let’s go,” Claire said.

Outside, in the autumn air, they buckled the children into their strollers. Claire still didn’t know if she ever wanted kids, but she was getting to be a natural at this whole stroller thing. And now that Reagan was starting to have a personality, Claire enjoyed spending time with her. She made a funny face at Reagan while she adjusted a blanket around her, and Reagan laughed a hiccupy laugh. Then Claire took a deep breath and reached into her bag, pulling out a CD.

Getting proper credit on “Idaho Eyes” had been easier than Claire had anticipated. Canny, publicity-smart Marlena had realized that the whole story was going to come out anyway, so she gave a long interview to New York magazine about how she was going to make sure the guys did right by Claire. Women had to have one another’s backs, she said, and promptly received a slew of think pieces calling her a feminist hero. While it may have been a PR stunt, it did translate into actual cash. Claire wasn’t exactly swimming in riches, but she had enough to pay her rent for a little while, look into getting some much-needed therapy, and hire some background musicians to help record a high-quality demo.

“I wanted to give you something,” Claire said to Amara, handing her the demo. “I know it feels like years ago that you made this offer, but I finished recording those songs, and I thought, if you liked them, you could pass my information along to that old bandleader you mentioned.”

“Excellent! Of course,” Amara said.

“Only if you actually like them, though,” Claire said. “I’m proud of them, but I don’t want you to just feel like you owe me because I saved you from Mommy Speed.”

“Oh, right,” Amara said dryly. “I’d nearly forgotten about that. Only if I actually like them, then.” She put the CD into her bag.

“Thanks,” Claire said, and they smiled at each other. “Last day of leisure, huh?”

Amara would go back to work the next day. There had been one benefit to the TrueMommy debacle, at least. When she submitted her résumé to places now, people actually started calling her in for interviews. They wanted to talk to her because she was a curiosity, because they thought they could grill her about all the sordid details, but she managed to twist it to her advantage. “I’ve been through that,” she said in the interview for the show that ended up hiring her, “and now I’m fucking unflappable.”

“Lord,” Amara said to Claire. “Having it all will be a cakewalk after this.”

Claire laughed. And then they turned into the golden afternoon light and took the kids to the park.