“Great,” said his landlady. “Polly, grab a couple more cups, would you?” She stepped into the hallway and raised her voice. “Libby! Do you and Anna want some tea?” Her voice was still calm, but Laura could hear a faint note of hysteria. Poor Maggie was not having a good day. Earthquakes. Walls. Arguments. A distant voice responded, and Maggie came back into the kitchen. “Two more for tea, that’s fantastic.”

Polly was having an internal argument, but decided to simply smile and restrain her tongue. She was learning to let shit go and gave herself a small pat on the back for progress. Then she wondered which element of her outfit provoked the comment—it could easily be the shirt; there was a definite Velma from Scooby-Doo vibe. To be fair, she’d been kind of fine with that.

Sarah had swiveled her sights back to her brother. “Mom, you can’t let Asher talk to me like that.” She folded her arms. “It’s so easy to criticize, isn’t it? God forbid you look at your own side of the street.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Asher, his voice much quieter now. He was aware they had an audience, including Polly, and wished this had never started. But his sister always did this, always caused trouble.

“You know,” said his sister, going over to her purse, which sat on the table. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a Zippo lighter. “You let Madeleine walk all over you and then you fled the scene. Borrowing money from Mom to do it, am I right?”

Asher looked quickly at his mother, who shrugged. “I didn’t say anything.”

“I paid her back,” he said to his sister. “I paid her back within a few months.”

Sarah stuck a cigarette in her mouth, but didn’t light it. “And now you’re back, living with Mom.”

“Sarah,” said Maggie, “please don’t smoke in here.”

Sarah pulled the cigarette out of her mouth and crumpled it in her hand, holding it up high and letting the mangled pieces drop to the floor. “Sorry, Mom, forgot the rules.”

“Only till I find a place.” Asher pointed at his sister. “Maybe if I’m lucky, I can follow your example and marry someone wealthy and stupid.”

Sarah laughed. “My husband is not stupid.” She went to pull another cigarette from the pack, shot a look of frustration at her mom, and didn’t.

“He married you, didn’t he?” Asher couldn’t help himself any more than he could have at twelve.