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want. The numbers speak for themselves.”
    “Are you okay, honey?” Oprah asked Shoshana. “I could see that might not have been something you were ready to talk about on national television.”
    She’d done CPR on him, and how odd it had been to put her mouth on top of her own father’s gummy white lips. She’d put one hand over the other, pumping on his huge chest she’d pressed her face against so many times as a child when he’d give her a bear hug. One of his eyes was half open and it terrified her, like a monster in a horror movie. She’d dripped tears on his face, finally screaming, “Help!” over and over again until her mother ran outside, the screen door flapping and slamming behind her. She had been in the middle of baking a cherry pie and had flour on her hands and an apron which scattered like confetti as she ran toward her husband and daughter. “Oh, Bill!” she’d screamed.
    “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” She’d finally found her voice. She tried to conjure up her calming image. Palm tree waving in the wind … Oh, to hell with it. God! Why was she such a wimp? She wished she had something on Alexis, something to trip her up and expose her. But she had nothing, nada, zilch. She wasn’t really much of an arguer anyway, had always hated fighting and avoided it at all costs. Combine that with her nervousness about being on TV and she was lucky she’d managed to get out two words up here.
    Oprah was a professional and knew when it was time to wrap things up. “We’re going to go to commercial. When we get back we’ll have our resident personal financial consultant, the wonderful Suze Orman, back to help us curb those shopping sprees.” She leaned forward toward her audience, a twinkle in her eye. “I’m going to hide my checkbook under my seat, just in case she tells me I’ve been spending too much. I suggest you do the same! We’ll be right back!”
    The cameras panned away. Alexis turned toward Oprah. “I’ve always wanted to know what happens when you go to commercial,” she said, as if nothing were odd, as if she hadn’t just struck a blow to Shoshana.
    Oprah smiled at both her guests. “Thank you for coming on the show, ladies, my assistant will see you back to your families.” It had been a good segment, having these two bloggers on. Her producer had suggested it, and she’d been glad to implement both the popularity of weight blogs and women’s issues at the same time. She’d thought Alexis had been the perfect villain and Shoshana the hero. Shows didn’t always work out this smoothly, but today had. Oprah had known the information about the girl’s father, she had excellent researchers on her staff, but she’d chosen not to use it, and wasn’t sure how she felt about Alexis doing so. On the one hand it created tension, which always makes for good TV, but she wished Alexis hadn’t brought up Shoshana’s father’s death; it obviously had been devastating for her. She’d clammed up ever since. And clamming up made for very bad TV.
    A woman wearing black jeans, a blue button-down shirt, and a Yankees baseball cap approached the stage. A large black apronlike belt was strapped around her middle, and she began touching up Oprah’s makeup, quickly taking out brushes and an eyelash curler. “How’s your niece doing?” Oprah asked the woman. Shoshana and Alexis didn’t get a chance to hear the specifics of how this particular child was feeling as the same skinny guy with the clipboard and headphones who had been with them in the green room was now offering his hand to both girls, and Shoshana accepted, feeling the soft material of the couch beneath her palms as she stood up.
    Emily and her mother were waiting in the green room. They arranged happy looks on their faces for Shoshana’s benefit. When they saw their daughter and sister walk down the hall, they squealed and ran to her, covering her with kisses.
    “You were amazing!” Emily yelled, hugging Shoshana so