Last week, before coming out here, she bought a dress in a chain store, on her credit card, a wrap in silk crepe de chine. It has a print of Japanese flowers. She has brought it with her, but she knows she won’t wear it. It stays at the bottom of her suitcase. It is the outfit of someone who has achieved things she has not. Someone who is living a life she is beginning to expect is not destined for her.

On the last evening of the holiday, Lissa insists they go for cocktails. There is a little bar she has seen tucked down an alleyway. They all go out to the bar and drink Kir Royales and champagne cocktails in its dark interior. They have three cocktails each but they do not feel drunk, just merry, as they make their way down the cobbled streets to the harbor and to their restaurant. It is their restaurant now. They order wine and drink it quickly, and then have more. They eat bread dipped in olive oil and salt, and drink more wine. They start to feel drunk.

“So,” says Lissa, lighting a cigarette. “What happens next?” She is speaking to Hannah.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, after you get married. You going to have kids?”

“I suppose so,” says Hannah. “Yes.”

“Does Nathan want them?”

“Yes. I think so.”

“You think so?”

“Yes,” says Hannah. “He does.”

“Right.” Lissa nods.

“What?” says Hannah.

“Nothing,” says Lissa.

“What? Why are you making that face?”

“I just, it’s quite a big deal, isn’t it? Having kids. Don’t you think you ought to think about it a bit more than that?”

“I have thought about it, actually. I’ve thought about it a lot. And I want children. What about you? Do you want kids?”

“No.”

“No? Just no?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you think you ought to examine that a bit more? What if you regret it?”

“Sure,” says Lissa, blowing the smoke of her cigarette out into the evening air. “I’ll examine it. I don’t want kids because I think you should really, really want kids to have them. And if you want to do anything else in your life, then maybe you should do that instead. I saw enough of that with my mother.”

“What do you mean?” says Hannah.

“I was in the way. Of all of it: her art, her life. Her fucking activism. She should never have had me. Everyone would have been a lot better off.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” says Hannah. “Don’t be ridiculous. Your mother is amazing.”

“Is she?” says Lissa. “Of course. Of course she is, Hannah, and you would know. Since you know my mother so well.”

Hannah stares at her friend. She has rarely seen this side of Lissa before. This drunken curdling. This bitterness.

“Leave it, Lissa.” Cate leans in. “Give Hannah a break.”