“The boys really miss having him around,” Jess said. “The other fellas are just as nice, but don’t seem to take the personal interest in them that John did. I mean, signing them up for a T-ball team and everything. What a guy.”

“What a guy,” Leigh said. What a jerk, she thought. No matter how mad he was at her, he shouldn’t let the boys down like this. Of course, the boys didn’t know they’d been let down yet, but surely they would notice soon.

“Tell me what you think of this invitation, Leigh,” Jess said, handing her a calligraphic page.

The address and a request for an R.S.V.P. appeared at the bottom.

“Good heavens,” Leigh said. “This is pretty fancy, isn’t it? For a backyard barbecue?”

“Well, when you spend thousands revamping the backyard, you ought to do up the party right. Don’t you think?”

“How many people are you inviting?”

“Everyone I’ve ever met.”

“Oh. And are you having it catered, or did you get together a bunch of friends to potluck it?”

“Oh, catered. Naturally. I’m using Berkley’s Bakery and Deli. They’re fantastic.”

“This is going to cost a fortune.”

“I only plan to do this once.”

“Well,” Leigh said, handing the invitation back to her mother, “just so long as you don’t wear yourself out and get sick.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m not even doing any of the work. Shouldn’t we get you a new dress for the party?”

“A dress? You’re planning on guests wearing dresses?”

“Mom,” a small voice said from somewhere below. She looked down to see Ty, the blond, staring up at her. “Wanna play catch some more?”

“Where’s Mitchell?” Leigh asked.

“Over there. Waiting for us.”

“Okay,” she said, moving down to the backyard and holding out her hands. She didn’t do this well; another character flaw. Ty fired the first one at her and she missed it, so naturally she had to chase it. “So, Mother,” she called, glancing back to the deck where Jess stood, watching them. “It’s only three weeks till your party. You think everything will be done?”

“It’s almost done now,” Jess said, watching as Leigh pitched the ball to Mitch, missing him by miles. Mitch complained loudly and ran after the ball. Two more bad throws followed. “I’m going to have Peg’s son, the florist, bring out a bunch of fresh flower garlands to decorate the gazebo and put arrangements on long buffet tables,” Jess said, wincing as a ball hit Leigh in the leg. Leigh made a noise of pain and threw the ball—aiming for Ty, getting closer to Mitch—and both boys whined their unhappiness.