“Right? If men had them, there’d be seventeen cures, and Nobel Prizes all around.”
“You are so right.” I looked at her face, now smeary from her tears. “Come on. Let’s go downstairs and make macaroni and cheese.”
“Okay. But only if we can talk about you now. Your idiot ex is having another kid. That must be . . . weird.”
“It is,” I said. “I’m mostly worried about Dylan. I think Brad told him, but he hasn’t called me. And I’ve been thinking about the Fairchilds, too. I wonder if that’s why they didn’t . . . fight for me, I guess. Because they didn’t want to be estranged if Bralissa reproduced.” I hesitated, but since we were doing the sisterly bonding thing, I figured what the hell. “He tells everyone he’s never been happier, and they feel compelled to report that to me.”
“People who are truly happy don’t walk around proclaiming how happy they are.”
“You’re a wise woman, Hannah Silva Chapman.”
“And then there’s that video showing him for the asshat he is.”
“That video gives me so much joy, Hannah. So much joy.” I swallowed. She’d bared her soul to me, so it was only fair that I did the same. “But his life is better now. He lives in this huge house on the water, has a hot young wife, all this money to do whatever he wants. He has a stepdaughter and a baby on the way. The Fairchilds lost me as a daughter-in-law, but they instantly got another one. Even Dylan will have a half sibling and stepsister. Everyone’s family is growing, except mine. My only child is an adult now, and he’s so far away.”
“Well,” she said. “Your big sister is here for you. I have years to make up for.”
It was my turn to sob.
Which did not prevent us from making the world’s best mac and cheese and eating it well after midnight.
CHAPTER 22
Melissa
Melissa had seen Dr. Owens twice since she’d first gone to Wellfleet OB/GYN. Driving to Hyannis took too long, and she didn’t know anyone down there. Everyone in town said Dr. Owens （and Lillie） were the best, and she did want a blissful, calm labor （filmed, of course）， maybe in a birthing pool, because the babies got an instant rinse that way and weren’t covered in blood.
So she’d asked Dr. Owens if she could see her, and Dr. Owens said that it was only with the understanding that there might be occasions when Lillie would be the care provider, and so only if it was all right with both Lillie and Melissa. It was fine as far as Melissa was concerned. As for giving birth, Dr. Owens assured her that the hospital had many fine labor and delivery nurses, so if Wanda was handling another patient, Melissa would still be in experienced hands.
But aside from being assured that the plum-baby was perfectly fine, things weren’t going as planned. First, there was that wretched video. She’d decided to post it anyway, since there was no escaping it: #hormonal #PassingOnOysters #SomeoneHelpUs #LOL #PregnancyAnnouncementTookASwerve. She’d gotten a lot more followers, so go figure. But she didn’t want to be known as the Barfing Madonna, as someone had tagged her. She wanted to be known as a tastemaker, someone celebrated for beauty and style and . . . well, beauty and style.
And then there was her body.
It was not cooperating. Thanksgiving had been a complete disaster . . . Chef Paul had made a fantastic meal for the three of them, “with plenty for leftovers,” he’d said as he left. All Melissa had to do was keep things warm.
But the smells had haunted her, and she’d surreptitiously sneaked a few scoops of mashed potatoes just after he left at nine on Thanksgiving morning. An asparagus spear wrapped in prosciutto. Then another. The smell of turkey was incredible. She tried to stave off the hunger until dinner at two o’clock by making a grilled cheese sandwich. By the time she’d set the table, she was ravenous. She had thirds of everything. Thirds! While she cleaned up, she kept popping turkey and stuffing into her mouth, shooing Brad out of the kitchen so she could be alone with the food.
And then late that night, when Bradley and Ophelia were asleep, she crept down to the fridge to survey the leftovers, neatly wrapped by herself, since she’d given the housekeeper the day off. She made a turkey sandwich the likes of which she hadn’t had since she was a kid at Mee-Maw’s. Thick white bread, gobs of mayonnaise, stuffing, slabs of turkey breast and some dark meat, cranberry sauce （Mee-Maw’s had come out of a can, and Melissa missed that . . . she and Kaitlyn had loved the slurping sound it made when Mee-Maw expelled it into the bowl）。