The Husband Hour(60)

“You mean before lunch?”

“Before lunch.”

“What’s before lunch?” Stephanie asked, her voice hoarse. Dressed in leggings and a tank top, her hair loose and knotted, she headed straight for the coffeepot.

She reeked of alcohol.

“The doughnuts we’re making! Peanut butter and jelly,” Ethan said.

“Sounds awesome.” Stephanie tousled his hair. “E., do me a favor and scoot outside onto the deck for a few minutes. I need to talk to Gran.”

“But no pool,” Beth said.

Ethan crossed his arms. “I know, Gran, no grown-up, no water,” he said, repeating the number-one rule she’d set at the beginning of the summer. He trotted off, and as soon as he was out the door, Stephanie wilted into a chair at the breakfast table. It was as if it had taken every ounce of her strength just to stand upright and speak to him.

“I’m so hung over.” She groaned. Before Beth could respond, Stephanie held up her hand as if warding off a physical blow. Then, to Beth’s surprise, she started to cry.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Beth pulled out the chair next to her and hugged her.

“You were right,” Stephanie said, sobbing in her arms. “Everything you said yesterday.”

Beth glanced outside, hoping Ethan was occupied, not witnessing his mother’s breakdown. He was on the far side of the deck.

“It’s going to be okay,” Beth said.

“I’m drinking too much. My life is a mess…”

“I’m here,” Beth said. “Let me help you.”

Stephanie cried harder, pulling away from her and burying her face in her hands. Beth could barely hear the muffled words through her sobs: “You can’t help. It’s too late.”





Chapter Thirty-Two



Nora’s annual Fourth of July party was in full swing by the time Lauren corralled her mother, sister, and Ethan and got them into the car to drive over. The delay had been due to the problem of how to transport the absolutely insane amount of doughnuts her mother had baked.

“Mom, there’s enough for two parties here,” she said, surveying the trays of red, white, and blue–frosted doughnuts, the apple-pie doughnuts, and the pale glazed ones that her mother had identified as margarita doughnuts.

“What makes a margarita doughnut?” Lauren had asked.

“My little secret. But I’ll give you a hint: lime zest and tequila.”

“Okay, Mom, we don’t need to bring all of these.”

“Earlier in the week, you said two parties, so that’s what I prepared for.”

That’s right; Henny, still hurt and angry with Nora, had planned to boycott Nora’s party and have her own. But after much pressure from their shared group of friends—and the realization that Nora’s party was such an institution that no one would show up at Henny’s—she caved and agreed to go to Nora’s after all.

“Are we taking one car or two?” Stephanie asked. She was dressed in a tank top and Daisy Dukes.

“We’re taking two cars,” Lauren said. “One for us, and one for Mom’s doughnuts.”

Stephanie laughed.

“Okay, very funny. And to answer your question, we can take one car.”

“And Dad’s not coming back today? I can’t believe he’s blowing off the Fourth,” Stephanie said. It was true; their dad loved the holiday. When they were little, he had been the one to drive them to Narberth Park to see the fireworks if they weren’t at the shore. And when they were at the beach, he would give them turns sitting on his shoulders to watch the display. “What’s going on?”

“We’re just taking a little time apart,” Beth said. “A little space.”

“Space?” Stephanie said, incredulous. As confused as if Beth had said outer space.

“Come on, girls, let’s go. You know I hate being the last one to a party.”



Nora’s front lawn was festooned with American flags, her trees decorated with red, white, and blue streamers. The front porch welcomed guests with robust bundles of star-spangled balloons. A few people milled around, and the front door was open.

“Happy Fourth of July!” Nora, dressed in a red, white, and blue patchwork dress, hugged Lauren before bending down to greet Ethan.

“Thanks for having us,” Beth said, handing Nora the first of five trays of doughnuts.

“These look fantastic,” Nora said.

“You remember my sister, Stephanie,” Lauren said.

“Hi, hon. Welcome!”

Stephanie, looking distracted, just nodded.

“I’ll take these gorgeous confections to the kitchen so they aren’t devoured before dessert. The hot dogs and hamburgers are grilling as we speak, April brought her vodka watermelon, and we have both red and white sangria.”

Beth whispered something to Stephanie, and Lauren guessed it was a reminder not to drink too much. Music played, 1970s stuff.

Stephanie, with Ethan in tow, followed Lauren to the back deck.

“What’s the deal with Mom and Dad?” Stephanie said.

“I don’t know. I guess they’re having problems.”

“About what?”