“Dad was a dorky broadcasting guy up in the booth that day,” Mary said in a voice shaky from her adrenaline, from her disbelief at what was happening. “He fell in love with you during the competition and found you in the dressing room after you won. Brought you a bouquet of crappy daisies and asked you on a date.”

“Your father was not dorky,” Naomi claimed. “He was just...less fashionable than some other men. But he was kind to me. And sweet and smart.”

“Mom!” Mary took her mother by the shoulders. “How come you can’t defend yourself the way you just did Dad? He was totally a dork. A computer nerd. You are beautiful in these pictures.” Mary held up the plastic box. “Why can’t you see reality?”

“You have no idea, Mary,” Naomi hissed. “You have no idea how long it took for us to get pregnant. You have no idea what it’s like to really watch your body change with age. You have no idea—”

“You were twenty-five when you got pregnant! What do you mean it took you a long time?”

“All our friends were pregnant already. Your father and I took years, Mary. Do you know how humiliating that was? How happy I was when you were finally here?”

“No, Mom. I didn’t know any of that. Because you’ve been hiding the evidence in the attic like a crazy person.” Mary shook the box of photos. “I really can’t believe this is happening. You think that showing me these photos of you at age forty is going to scare me into running out and getting married and knocked up? You think I don’t know what it’s like to watch my body change as I age? You think I’m the exact same as I was in my twenties? You think I haven’t changed my style and my beauty care regimen and my exercise routine? I’m aware of my age, Mom. It just doesn’t affect my happiness.”

Naomi pinched the bridge of her nose. When she spoke, it was with a shaky, synthetic patience. “Your father fell in love with me because of my looks, Mary. At first, at least. When we’d been married and been through life together, he loved me for different reasons. He’s loyal and faithful and sweet. But it was this that got him. This.” She pointed again at the beautiful girl in the pageant photos. “And I’m begging you to keep an open mind.”

“An open mind?” Mary asked in confusion. “An open mind? You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re telling me to have an open mind? You’re the most closed-minded person in my life!”

Naomi reeled back. “I’m not closed-minded. I’m realistic. And it wouldn’t kill you to get your head out of the clouds.”