Life and Other Inconveniences(89)

“Hard to say, since I haven’t met her.”

“Based on what I told you, though.”

“Really hard to diagnose over the phone, hon.”

“What’s going on with Genevieve?” Jamilah asked. “Is she sick?”

“It doesn’t seem that way to me,” I said. “But I was summoned here this summer because she said she has cancer. A brain tumor, specifically. She said she was dying.”

“Well, if that’s what dying looks like, I wish I were dying, too,” Beth said.

“No more margaritas for you,” I said. Another round of giggles floated up, and I felt utterly, completely happy.

“Jamilah, how are things going with Jason?” Beth asked.

She shrugged, glancing at me. “We’ll see. He’s a great father, and the boys really miss him, so that kind of sucks. Being the only parent is so much harder than when you can pass the kids off to someone.” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Emma. That was insensitive.”

“Don’t worry. It’s true. Single parenting is brutal.” I sipped my drink. “He and I were never together, not really. Not after high school.” Beth and Calista, who knew the inside scoop on that, side-eyed me but didn’t contradict.

“What makes a great father?” Beth asked. “Because I’m looking. I want babies so bad my ovaries spontaneously triple in size every time I see a picture of Lin-Manuel Miranda.”

“Happens to us all,” I murmured.

“Is Jason a great father to Riley?” Calista asked. She had a grudge against him, which was easy to do, since she’d never met him and encountered his easygoing charm and Jake Gyllenhaal eyes.

“He is,” I said generously. “He’s never forgotten a birthday, and he always gives Riley the best presents. He calls or texts a couple times a week, and he visits at least once a year. And then he always takes her somewhere cool or does something amazing with her. Rock climbing or sailing or The Lion King. She adores him.” I paused. “Thank you for making that easy, Jamilah.”

“Oh, God,” she said. “It’s nothing. He just needs a nudge.”

I tilted my head. “I meant, thanks for being so understanding,” I said. “What did you mean, he needs a nudge?”

“Uh . . . nothing.”

I looked at her a minute. Her cheeks flushed, and she played with her ring.

“So that’s all you?” I asked. “The calls and the visits and remembering her birthday?”

“Well . . . I put a reminder in his phone to call her. And of course her birthday is on our family calendar.” She pressed her lips together.

“Do you schedule the visits?”

She winced.

“And pick out her gifts?”

She grimaced. “I . . . yeah. It’s me.”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “I mean, well done and thank you. But really? It’s not him?”

“Surprise, surprise,” Calista muttered.

“He absolutely loves her,” Jamilah said. “I just . . . I didn’t want her to ever feel second-best, you know? When we got married, I told him I wanted her to be a priority, and you know he’s kind of scatterbrained, and—”

“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s fine.” I swallowed. “It just makes me like you more, in fact.”

“And like him less, we hope?” Calista said. “No offense, Jamilah.”

“None taken. We’re separated. Does anyone here really like Facebook? Because it’s ruining my marriage.”

The conversation swung around to social media, how ridiculous it was, how no one would get off it, how everyone felt worse for being on it.

My mind was busy recalculating. All those years, Jason never said a word about his wife having a hand in his . . . fathering.

“Here’s an idea,” Beth said. “I’ll move in with you, Jamilah. We can coparent those beautiful kids of yours. I won’t even ask for sex unless you beg me.”

Good old Beth. We all laughed, and the tension was broken. In fact, I felt a little relieved. Jason wasn’t quite as perfect a father as he pretended to be (and as I’d believed him to be). And my daughter’s stepmother loved her. Life tooketh with one hand and gaveth with the other.

“No one has provided me with a man, by the way,” Beth said. “It’s been five minutes. You don’t know anyone?”

“Move to Chicago,” Calista said. “I’ve got at least four interns who could use an older woman to help them grow up. They’re children, but they have high earning potential and good hearts.”

“A cougar,” Beth said thoughtfully. “I like it.”

The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” I said and hauled myself off the chaise lounge.

“Bring more guacamole,” Calista ordered.

“Yes, my liege,” I said.

“See, she gets our dynamic,” Calista said. “I tell her she doesn’t have Huntington’s, she makes me guacamole.”

“Completely fair,” Jamilah said.

I was still smiling as I went into the foyer and opened the door.

It was Miller. “Hey!” I said. “How are you?”

“Hi. Nice to see you.”