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“You look like a new woman.” Her usual unruly red curls are now silky and smooth and it looks like the ends have been trimmed, as well as some feathery bangs cut around her face that really bring out her eyes. Her skin is glowing, and her makeup is impeccable.
    “I feel like a new woman.”
    “And now it’s time to go shopping,” Paige announces as she gets her purse.
    “Maybe Fern and I should stay here,” I suggest. “No way,” Paige says. “You’re coming with us.” “But she’s being a little fussy.” “That’s because it’s feeding time,” Mollie explains.
    So while Mollie feeds Fern, Paige and I gather up the baby things and switch them to Paige’s car, which is a bit of an ordeal that I’m still getting used to, but I make sure Fern’s seat is secure and safe. And before long we head off to one of Paige’s favorite shops, where, as usual, Paige gets the full attention of the sales people.
    “I really do think this could be a show,” Paige says as she helps Mollie pick out some things to try on. Paige keeps in mind that Mollie is short and not necessarily “petite,” picking out some items that make her look taller and thinner. She keeps the look more classic than trendy and, although it’s still summer and warm, she looks for lightweight layers appropriate for the fall.
    “Maybe we could call it ‘Beating the Baby Blues,’ “ I say as I navigate Fern’s stroller through a tight aisle.
    “Maybe we could have you in it too,” Paige suggests to Mollie. “Would you be willing to wear a pillow or something and pretend you’re still pregnant?”
    Mollie chuckles. “Well, I’m not eager to be pregnant again, but if I’m only acting, why not?”
    “I’ll tell Helen about this idea next week,” Paige says as she hands Mollie a pale-yellow sundress. “Although I doubt we can do much with it before our New York trip.”
    “New York?” Mollie frowns. “I thought your next trip was Milan.”
    I quickly explain about Rhiannon and New York to Mollie, and before she can start getting bummed about our “fun and glamorous lives,” Paige escorts her to the dressing room, telling her which things to try on with what.
    After awhile, Mollie emerges in an outfit that really works—a shell-pink sleeveless top, a flouncy skirt in a fun,tropical print, and a light, lacy cardigan. “Very pretty,” I tell her. “That color is great on you.”
    But Mollie looks glum.
    “What’s wrong?” I ask. “You look great.”
    “It’s these clothes,” she says. “They’re too expensive.”
    I was expecting this, and I already have a plan. “We told you this is going to be part of a show,” I tell her. “So the show is covering the cost of this outfit.”
    “Really?” Her eyes grow wide.
    “That’s right,” Paige says as she holds out a pair of great-looking sandals. “Try these on, Mollie.”
    I realize what I said isn’t completely true, but it’s partly true. Because my money comes from the show, in essence, the show really is covering the cost. And, who knows? If we do a show about this maybe the costs
will
be covered.
    Anyway, I’m glad to do this for Mollie. By the time the items are rung up, Mollie is beaming. She really does seem like a new woman as the saleswoman clips the tags and bags up her old clothes.
    “Let’s get some lunch,” Paige suggests as we’re putting Mollie’s bags into the trunk. “I’ll call and see if I can get us in somewhere special.”
    Before long, with Baby Fern sleeping contentedly in her stroller, we are dining al fresco at a new bistro. And after a couple of girls come up for autographs and photos of Paige, we manage to have a nice, quiet lunch.
    “You guys are the best,” Mollie tells us as Paige is driving back to her house. “I don’t even know how to thank you.”
    “Well, first of all,” Paige says firmly, “promise that you won’t go around looking like you did when you showed up at the condo this morning.”
    Mollie laughs.