Alexa barked a laugh because Abigail had a point. “The nonstop comparisons can’t be helpful. It’s a whole new level of self-exploration with these girls today. We all have insecurities. But you’re right. I hope Penny takes a few deep breaths and reconciles with Chase. Like tomorrow.”

Just a splash more wine for Abigail and then she corked the bottle and put it on the side table. “I’m sure Chase played a part in this. The campaign, the move. That’s a lot on a relationship. And men, even this new generation of men, can be clueless about the effect of their actions on another person.”

Now it was Alexa’s turn. “Oh, yes. I see that all the time in my friends’ marriages. It’s like they have two calendars, one for his schedule and one for the rest of the family’s schedule. But his is always on top. Time-wise anyway.”

Abigail laughed. “I love it when George travels for bridge tournaments. I can just do what I want when I want. It’s . . . luscious. I imagine your whole life is like that.”

Alexa let that sink in. No, of course it wasn’t, for a single mother and business owner in the hospitality trade. But it was late in the evening and she didn’t want to push back when they’d opened new ground. “Most of the time, I guess it is. I fill it with work. But I get to be selfish about my time in a way that you don’t.”

“I think about how little George and I really knew about each other when we got married. We were in our midthirties so we knew we were ready, but that doesn’t mean we knew each other. We liked the idea of each other, the familiarity of each other, but it took a good decade to really understand the person I was married to.”

“Was it a shocker? When George finally revealed himself?”

The image of George revealing himself (or the wine) made Abigail howl with laughter. “George revealing himself. I’m going to assume that’s a lost-in-translation thing!”

Then Alexa laughed but tried to banish the image of George in a daring position with nothing but a gingham tie on. It was too much. All at once, she felt the weight of everything on her shoulders. Penny. The broken engagement. The disappointment of the Blakemans. It was exhausting, bearing the burden of expectations.

Then her phone pinged. It was a message from Ricky. “Ricky’s here. I asked him to pick me up.”

“That was good thinking,” Abigail said, swallowing the last of her wine. She did admire Alexa’s executive functioning skills. “So, what should we do tomorrow, then?”

“Let’s figure that out in the morning. I think we both need a good night’s sleep.”