DEAR LISA | JENLISA

THIRTY-ONE

LISA

Month twelve

February
***

THE RUSH OF buying the house carried her along for a few weeks. She'd shown it to Jisoo and her crew. Sebastian had proclaimed it "the best house in the world for hide-and-seek, Aunt Lisa!" and Donna had clucked over how extravagant it was, "but you deserve it, of course." Her own mom had simply told her how proud of her she was, and then picked out the room she'd like "when Sumi, Ben and I come here for two weeks every August." Ben proclaimed it perfect for Lisa.

After the whirlwind closing, Lisa went back to the house with Riley and Roseanne. The neighborhood was quiet; Lisa assumed some of the houses were second homes that filled up in the summer. The former owners had agreed to sell her some of the furniture, which was great . . . some of the stuff was quite nice, and the house was too big for her to furnish on her own.

She figured her two friends would be good people to give her advice on where to put stuff . . . and help her feel less lost in this place. She didn't plan to move in for some time, although Frank had told her that the market was hot for loft apartments like his, and she'd be thrilled to list Lisa's.

But the apartment was where she and Jennie had lived. Lisa wasn't sure if she was ever going to sell it. She didn't have to decide right away, but she did need to get her ass in gear and earn some more money.

Chiron Medical Enterprises, the company in Singapore, had sent her a case of wine and reminded her they'd love to host her, whatever she decided about their job offer, which was still on the table.

Right now, Riley was peppering Roseanne with questions about why she went into public service instead of the more lucrative private counseling.

"I wanted to go where the need was greatest. The kids in the system . . . it just sucks so bad for them. Most of the time, they're taken out of their homes at a really awful moment, then plopped into a foster home. No matter how nice the foster family is, it's traumatic. So if I can be their friend, or their rock, during that time . . ."

There was a lot of nobility in that answer.

"Do you think you'll ever burn out?" Riley asked.

"Absolutely. It seems like everyone in the department does. But for now, I'm good." She stood back and surveyed the results of the furniture placement.

"When you go to private practice, we can be partners."

"That would be so fun, Riley." She smiled at their friend, then looked at Lisa. "How are we doing, Lisa? You like where we put this?"

"Yes," she answered before she looked at it.

"Great! Well, I have to run. I've got a date."

"Not so fast," said Riley. "Spill."

"He's a telemarketer," she said sheepishly. "Timeshares."

"Oh, my God, honey," Riley said, recoiling. "Is the dating scene that bad?"

"Yes."

"Any port in a storm?" Riley asked.

"I just think if I comb through enough manure, I'll find my diamond."

"You deserve someone great, Roseanne," Lisa said, surprising herself. "You sell yourself short."

She tilted her head to look at her. "Thank you?"

"You do. Don't go out with the telemarketer."

"Hey. He's employed, unlike half of the men I meet."

"Maybe you date crappy men so you'll always have an excuse for why you're single," she said.