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this?”
    Tracy had never taken me over there with her. It was my first time.
    She answered, “This is my cousin Vanessa from back home in Philly.”
    I slid out my hand to shake Maria’s, only for her to wrap me into a hug.
    â€œA cousin of yours is a cousin of mine,” she said to Tracy.
    I was still too tired to recall everyone I met there that day. The majority of the visitors were family members, old associates, Hollywood powers, Maria’s family, and Tracy and me. That let me know how close Tracy had gotten to Susan and her powerful Hollywood family. But there was no crying and mourning in the house. They all seemed to use the gathering as a meaningful get-together that was overdue. They were even drinking wine in there. Tracy was shocked herself.
    She asked Susan on the low, “How come it doesn’t look like . . . anybody’s sad in here?”
    Susan smiled it off. She said, “My uncle Eddie has been telling us all for years that he doesn’t want a bunch of crying and carrying onwhen he dies. Nor does he want us fighting over his fortune. He just wants us to come together with wine and talk about him to everyone who will listen.”
    Tracy grinned and said, “That sounds just like him. Let me go and get a glass of wine then.”
    I know it was wrong, but all I could think about while I was there was how many millions of dollars we could borrow from the Weisner family to make our movie. It wasn’t as if we wouldn’t get it back. Flyy Girl was as sure a hit in my book as a Tom Cruise movie.
    â€œSo, what’s going on in your mind, Vanessa?” Susan asked me with her glass of wine in hand. She said, “I can see that your wheels are turning? You’re always thinking about something.”
    Susan knew me real well. But it wasn’t hard to figure me out. I mean, I didn’t talk a lot around people I didn’t really know, but I was always thinking.
    I told Susan, “Nothing in particular. I’m just a little tired from being up all last night.”
    â€œYou had a big assignment for school that was due?” she asked me.
    â€œNo, I was up thinking about other things.”
    â€œOh, it’s those naughty boys,” she assumed with a smirk. “They’ve been known to keep many a girl up late at night.”
    On second thought, maybe she didn’t know me well. Not to say that I wouldn’t want a man eventually, they just were not on my mind at the present. But I was never scared of boys like Raheema was in her day. I was just two steps ahead of them, and they still had not quite caught up with me yet.
    To humor Susan, I said, “I wish I did have a boy to keep me up late. But they don’t seem to like girls with a plan. I guess they look at it as too much competition.”
    Susan looked at me and started laughing.
    She said, “Have you been reading my diary? You are so on with that.”
    I didn’t know whether to smile or frown at her. Weren’t we all there because her loved and respected uncle had died? I just couldn’t get into the celebration-of-a-loss thing. I understood the theory, I just felt a little hesitant about practicing it.
    Tracy arrived just in time to save me from my conflicted thoughts and feelings about Susan.
    â€œSo, I guess you’ll be having visitors here for the next couple of days?” my cousin stated. We were all watching new visitors walk through the door.
    Susan looked at her and said, “Try the next couple of weeks. My uncle Eddie knows a boatload of people. So the only thing that will stop this boat ride is my aunt Jillian getting a little worn out from it all.”
    I looked over at the frail, gray-haired, and still attractive widow, who was meeting and greeting a gang of folks inside the house, and I wondered how much energy she would have left for herself when it was all said and done.
    Susan then joked to Tracy, “I was just talking to