His first word since the stroke, and it wasn’t even directed at a family member, the bastard. Why put family first when he’d had his tongue down some other woman’s throat? When he didn’t even have the decency to divorce Mom before cheating on her? That slut should be the one stuck with him now.

Forty-three years old, and feeling like Brianna, sullen and judgmental and wishing she could kick a sick old man. Not a proud moment. She poured herself more wine and drank it, grateful that tomorrow was the weekend.

— —

An hour later, Sadie was still happily snuffling her tears of joy. Mom had called LeVon, who said this was a very good sign, and Caro had gotten Janet a plate and heated it up in the microwave. Janet was talking about her brother’s progress at Rose Hill, a care facility north of Stoningham. Noah was holding his sleeping baby, Mickey was in the bathroom, Gillian was subtly texting someone for help, no doubt, and Juliet was drunk.

That was when the vacuous waste of space known as her sister’s boyfriend walked in.

“Our yacht salesman is here! The man of the people has arrived!” Juliet announced.

“Hon,” Oliver said in a low voice, “I think you should tone it down a little.”

“Why? He’s three hours late.”

Sadie got up and hugged him, but not before shooting a look at Noah. “Honey! You made it. Guess what? My father spoke tonight! He recognized Janet!”

“And who’s Janet?” he said. “Mrs. Frost, I’m so sorry I’m late.”

“Don’t worry about it, dear,” she said. “Do you know everyone? This is Janet, our friend from Gaylord, and Noah and Mickey and their little boy, and this is Gillian, a friend of mine.”

“Hello. Nice to meet you,” Alexander said, smiling blandly.

“We’ve met, actually,” Gillian said. “I organized the yacht christening in Clinton last fall. The Parkers?”

“Oh, right!” he said, clearly not recognizing her. “Small world.”

Mickey came in, still buckling her pants. “How long did it take for your period to get back to normal after you had babies, Juliet?” she asked.

“Nope. Not gonna talk periods at a dinner party,” she answered.

“Thank you!” said Alexander, and Juliet rolled her eyes.

Bad idea. The room was starting to spin a little. “Let’s go home and get naked,” she whispered to Oliver. He gave her a look that did not say great idea.

Perhaps she had been a little loud.

Gillian stood up. “I should go. This has been . . . yes! Thank you, Barb. I’ll be in touch. So good to see everyone.”

Poor thing. “Sorry!” Juliet called. “We’re usually better company than this.”

“I’m taking you home,” Oliver murmured.

“I should stay and clean up.”