She flew up 95 to Stoningham. Oliver was working from home today with a slight cold and being an utter infant about it. He was about to have his mind blown. Time to be shiny, spontaneous and bold.

Oliver was in the laundry room, putting sheets in the dryer because Juliet still hadn’t hired a new cleaning lady, goddamnit.

“All right, love?” he said as she came in.

“I want you,” she said.

He side-eyed her. “Darling, I have a man-cold. I’m hovering at the precipice of death.” He coughed to prove it, a meaty, phlegmy sound.

“I don’t care. I’m so . . .” Shit. She should’ve paid more attention to the three pornos she’d seen in her entire lifetime. “I’m so . . . wet.” Ick. It sounded like she’d peed her pants.

“I wouldn’t wish this cold on my worst enemy, my darling girl.”

“I won’t kiss you on the mouth, then.”

She dropped to her knees and started to untie his sweatpants.

“It’s a lovely thought, darling,” Oliver said, putting his hand on her head. His voice was thick with the cold. “Perhaps a rain check.”

“No. I need you now. Here. Like this.”

“Darling. I feel wretched.”

He’d change his mind. She pulled down his pants. “It’s so, um, big.” Gah. It wasn’t, not at the moment. She screwed her eyes shut and gathered her courage.

He stopped her, thank God, and pulled his pants back up. “Juliet, what are you doing?”

“Trying to give you a BJ.” Men were supposed to love this shit.

“The girls will be home in five minutes.”

Right. “Then I’ll be quick.”

“I swear that I’m thrilled about this theoretically, but seriously, darling, can we reschedule?”

“No.”

“Juliet.” He pulled her to her feet. “What’s got into you?”

“I’m trying to be fun and spontaneous and . . . not so serious.”

“Darling, we’re married with two children. Spontaneous happens only when we put it on the calendar.”

Well. She just couldn’t fucking win, could she? Everything Oliver said was true, and he looked like vomit warmed over, but it didn’t do much for her battered ego.

At that moment, the door banged open. “Daddy! Mommy!” yelled Sloane. “Guess what? Brianna got her period!”

“I rest my case,” Oliver murmured.

“Shut up, Sloane! I hate you!” Brianna said.

Juliet opened the laundry room door as Brianna flew by, her eyes red.

“She’s a woman now,” Sloane said solemnly. “She could have a baby.”

“Sloanie-Pop, this is a personal matter,” Oliver said. “Let’s get you a snack while Mummy talks to your sister, right?”

Sure. Give the hard child to me, Juliet thought. But yes. This was a mother’s job.

She went to Brianna’s room and knocked once. There was no answer, so she went in. Brianna was lying on the bed, sobbing.