WHEN THE PHONE rang at ten after six, Paula answered and then rushed into the bedroom to tell me the doctor was calling. I picked up the line with Don beside me. Dr. Lopani read the script written for him. I started crying, as loudly as I could on the off chance that Paula had decided to mind her own business for once. A half hour later, Don went downstairs and told Paula we had to let her go. He wasn’t nice about it; in fact, he was just mean enough to piss her off. Because you might run to the tabloids to tell them about the miscarriage of your employers. But you'll definitely run to the tabloids and tell them about the miscarriage of the people who just fired you.