jennifer smiled

Jennifer's suicide put me in denial today. I had my second "Sex and the City" flash when she developed breast cancer (the first being an older man who doesn't want kids, i.e. Kevin). It seemed that Jennifer had found the love she longed for with the senator -- he loved her for who she was instead of her body. But when he sat ignorant in the hospital room and said how thankful he was the doctor wouldn't be harming "his babies," Jennifer shut down. This was the last thing she needed to hear from someone she had put complete trust in. This was supposed to be the man whose love transcended the physical. Her heart shattered, and she lost the will to live. Susann cunningly foreshadows the tragedy.

Dr. Galens stopped in at midnight. "We'll go up at eight in the morning," he said cheerfully. "And Jennifer--it's going to be all right."
She smiled. "You bet it will." (374)

Neely, still on the pill roller coaster, nearly reaches rock bottom with a half-hearted suicide attempt. Anne still has faith in her.

Everyone seemed convinced that Neely was going through some kind of deliberate self-destruction, yet it was impossible for Anne to reconcile the image of the nervous, tortured Neely with the bright-eyed child who had once lived below her on Fifty-second Street. That was the real Neely. This phantom that Hollywood had created would eventually disappear and the real Neely would return. (343)

Anne's situation is depressing in its own way. Kevin suffered a heart attack and finally asked Anne to marry him, afraid he would lose her if he couldn't satisfy her. She keeps putting off the marriage, even though she accepted. Once again Susann captures the reader's empathy with a moment in which Anne runs into Allen.

But once, for a fleeting moment, the passage of time was wiped out by the expression in Allen Cooper's eyes. (344)
There was a pause. God, was there nothing to say after ten years? ...
Anne felt sad. People parted, years passed, they met again--and the meeting proved no reunion, offered no warm memories, only the acid knowledge that time had passed and things weren't as bright or attractive as they had been. She was glad Lyon was in England. She'd hate to run into him like this, to find that his hair had thinned or that the girl he dated was too young, too insipid. It was better to keep a memory intact. (345)

All the trouble with men brought Anne and Jennifer to make a comment I was slightly surprised to hear, though it's one my girl friends and I have asserted more than once.

"I love you, Jennifer--really."
Jennifer smiled. "I know you do. It's a pity we're not queer--we'd make a marvelous team." (353)

Then suddenly, it's almost like I'm reading a different book. Anne and Kevin take Neely to a place they think will provide "the sleep cure," but instead the barbiturate-addicted celebrity is committed. (I couldn't help but think of Britney Spears. Is she loony or are the drugs to blame? The world may never know.) I suppose my initial statement is more evidence of the author's skill. The sanitarium should feel like a different world because it is. Neely certainly doesn't feel at home, though she might end up staying more than a year.

• Trousseau = the possessions, such as clothing and linens, that a bride assembles for her marriage
• Nonplussed = a state of utter perplexity
• Alacrity = eagerness