“Cornish game hens, I think. I told her about a hundred years ago that they were my favorite, so . . .”

“Who else is going to be there?”

“Just you and me, and Edith, and Jake. Should be a hoot.”

“It’s perfect, because my mom is inviting half my family for that whole entire week, including the cousins I told you about, the NASCAR ones, and I’m going to need some time out by Friday night, and there is no way my mom will say no to me going to your house for dinner. But you gotta promise me one thing, Al. We’ll go to that party afterward, at Justin’s house. You don’t have to stay, but you have to come with me. I’m not going alone. You promise? And I get to pick what you wear.”

Alice promised. Gina, now that she had other friends besides Alice, including a dim but nice boyfriend that she’d met doing the yearbook, was always trying to get Alice to come to parties, or hang out with other kids. Alice would occasionally agree, not really because she wanted to, and not really to make Gina happy, but because she saw it as practice for the adult world. It was important to know how to talk with someone in a social situation, even if that someone was a dumb high school boy with a can of beer in his hand. And now that Alice was a senior, the incident with Scott Morgan from freshman year was ancient history. Alice was no longer the slut from Biddeford who would give it up to anyone. She’d changed all that, and now she was known as the aloof girl, too sophisticated for high school boys.

“Yay!” Gina said. “I’ll tell Justin. He’ll pee himself.”

According to Gina, Justin Lashaway, another friend of hers from cross-country, had a huge crush on Alice. “Whatever. I’ll go with you, but I’m not staying long. You agree to that, right?”

“Yeah, fine. What time at your mom’s house?”

On the day of the dinner party, Alice stayed home all day helping her mother. They’d cleaned the already immaculate condo, made the hors d’oeuvres—asparagus wrapped in ham—set the table, and done all the prep for the dinner. It was four o’clock, three hours before Gina was supposed to arrive, and everything had been done. Edith hadn’t been drinking, at least not that Alice could tell, but she was talking a blue streak, and grinding her teeth, and it was clear she was on something.

“You okay, Mom?” Alice asked.

“Of course I’m okay. I want to make a perfect dinner for my perfect daughter to celebrate her graduating from high school and becoming a woman.”

“You’re just so jumpy.”