She picked up her purse and knew that her attempt to accessorize had gone either unnoticed or dismissed as poorly done. Likely the latter; her mother would consider it poor breeding to remark on it negatively.

“You always were more his.”

“We loved each other, if that matters.”

Her exit from the club restaurant was sedate even though Marissa thought there must be steam blasting from both ears.

Dear Dad:

I guess that Mom took my news better than she did from you. So far, nothing has been thrown at me and she didn’t scream that I’d ruined her life. Of course, I told her in a crowded restaurant with friends and rivals nearby. What could she do? The only better place would have been in church, between the Hallelujah and the Amen.

Love, Marissa

P.S. I don’t think I ever realized how much courage it took for you to finally tell her—and me—the truth. I’m proud of us both.

Pinny had promised that working out reduced stress, so Marissa decided a workout was what she needed. The gym was crowded and she had to wait for some of the equipment. Given that she had hated to sweat and exercise her entire life, it was extremely vexing that she did feel better when she was done.

***

Linda wanted to be anywhere but in the chilly conference room provided by her mother’s attorney. Her own attorney sat still as the dead. Maybe he was dead.

Three weeks of big headaches and she was no closer to finding out what teenage Linda might want Dr. Kirkland to know. It had to do with her mother but she couldn’t make herself describe that recurring image of her mother handing her a plate of food. She couldn’t think why it mattered. It was all she remembered. How could it be meaningful? Yet . . . she wouldn’t tell Dr. Kirkland about it either. So it had to be important.

The door opposite opened and her mother swept into the room followed by her lawyer in his very expensive suit. Linda didn’t look under the table but she guessed his loafers were alligator.

The two attorneys exchanged pleasantries while Linda just looked at her mother, who made a great show of caring about what was being said.

They ran into each other every day at her mother’s house and exchanged no words at all. There was no resemblance between them that Linda had ever seen but then the plastic surgeries had begun at six. She would never have that sharp, hawk nose. Looking at her mother in this cold room made her shiver and she heard the echo of her little girl self asking, “What’s wrong with my ears? Why is the doctor going to cut them?”

“They ought to lie flat against your head. I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner. I think that’s why the other girl won last night.”

“She was very pretty.”

“Pretty is easy. We’re not aspiring to be pretty,” her mother had said firmly. “We’re going to be beautiful.”