Nicole tries to climb into my lap, but Zara holds onto her hindquarters. “Let Ack eat, okay? You can climb him like a jungle gym later.”

Someone passes me a basket of dinner rolls, and I take one.

“You’re the fellow who owns that new speakeasy!” Grandpa Shipley shouts.

“It’s a bar, gramps,” Griffin says. “Evening, Alec.” He reaches across the table and forks a slab of ham onto my plate. Then he puts one on his sister’s plate, too. “So…” He clears his throat and passes me a bowl of mashed potatoes. “How is it that you drove May home tonight?”

He gives me a wary look, which irritates me. Griff is sort of a grouch, generally. He gives everyone the side-eye.

May answers the question. “Alec was just in the right place at the wrong time,” she says, scooping applesauce onto her plate beside the ham. “And he volunteered to drive me home.”

“And that place was…?” Griffin waits.

“My bar,” I say between bites. And, wow. Mrs. Shipley’s ham is terrific. I think she smokes it herself. She probably enters those contests at the Tunbridge World’s Fair, where they give out blue ribbons for the best pie and the best applesauce.

When the Rossis go to the fair, we’re only there for the roller coasters and the deep-fried pickles.

There is another awkward silence. I glance around the table at all the gawking faces, and try to figure out what’s wrong. It’s a lot of faces, too. There’s the younger brother—Dylan—but not his twin sister, who’s away at college. And the Abrahams, who live down the road. And Jude Nickel and his wife, Sophie.

They are all looking at May with worry in their eyes. And it dawns on me that if I’d told May a week ago about Daniela’s cheating, she might have been able to avoid a scene at the bar. And she could have chosen the right moment to tell her family, too.

May meets my gaze from across the table. See? her expression says. Told you.

This awkward silence is all my fault.

Then May breaks it. “There I was, strolling into Alec’s bar, demanding a fifth of whiskey,” she says aloud.

Her mother gasps.

“Kidding.” May puts down her fork. “This afternoon I did a real estate closing in Waterbury. So I passed the Gin Mill on my way back south. And I spotted Daniela’s car in the lot.”

“Oh,” Ruth says, looking relieved.

Griffin nods. “Not like you could miss that car. All those bumper stickers. Kinda militant.”

May rolls her eyes. “Anyway. I went into the bar just to say hello. Daniela supposedly has a Thursday meeting.” May swallows hard. “I didn’t even think it was weird to see her car there because I thought maybe they get a drink afterward, and she didn’t say anything because she was being kind—since grabbing a drink isn’t something I do.”

The story stops there for a second while May takes a deep breath. There is silence from everyone, even my baby niece.