“Oh.” Marissa replayed the most vivid parts of their worst war of words. “I didn’t like that you wanted me to choose. But I shouldn’t have said what I said, about it being your fault he was gay. I knew at the time it was wrong for me to say that.”

“You were angry and I was being a bitch.” Her mother now seemed a little nervous. “The way we parted last time we had dinner made me think about how little we seem to say anymore. Looking back, I realize that I was so hurt, so wounded by your father that I couldn’t feel much else. I’m not sure you could understand.”

For a moment, Marissa thought it was another of her mother’s attempts to claim all of her experiences as unique. “I know what heartbreak is, Mom.” She took a deep breath, accepting that there were worse things to lie about than your name. “But you’re right. I’ve never been lied to quite that way.”

With a sigh, her mother peered into her empty glass. “This is certainly Dutch courage. I’m not even sure I should tell you this but you’re a grown woman and we’re finally being honest.”

Her mother started to say something else but broke it off to engage their server. “Yes, I think we’re ready.”

Marissa turned down the waiter’s offer of an appetizer and placed her order before returning her attention to her mother. Her mother asked for the same meal but added a dinner salad. “So what did you want to tell me?”

“Your father didn’t lie about having been with men before we married. He was honest about that.”

“Then why—”

“He lied when he said he didn’t want men anymore. And so I married him. I had to marry him. It’s what one did in those days. Even in the liberated Seventies.” Marissa could hardly take in the wry smile in her mother’s eyes. “It was the liberated Seventies that got me in that situation. We were both high and he said he wanted to give a woman a go and I said he’d never go back to men after a night with me. We were stupid and young and it was a lot of fun.”

Conquering a squeak in her voice, Marissa asked, “How many drinks have you had?”

“Enough. I’m not going to pretend that I’m not extremely conscious of social position and how important appearances are. I married a gay man so our child would be legitimate. I live in a takes-five-million-just-to-walk-through-the-gate community. I know you think my life is vapid and self-centered.”

Part of her numb with disbelief and part of her reluctantly drawn to the ironic humor in her mother’s tone, Marissa said, “You’ve summed it up pretty well.”

Her mother nodded. “I thought so, thank you. You might not like me much but I am your mother. The important thing is that I like myself. I do enjoy my life and what I do. If I have been a bitch to you about yours, it’s because you don’t seem to be able to say the same thing.”