Scrolling through her phone, she uploaded a photo Libby had taken of her on Freedom a couple of months earlier. She was laughing and the wind had caught her hair, throwing it out like a golden halo. She looked tanned, content and relaxed—a version of herself she wished her mother could see when she looked at her.

Filling in the Bumble profile was a walk in the park compared with the monster questionnaire from her first dating site, and she whizzed through questions, laughing at the place to fill in her star sign. Why not? After all, she’d just had her tea leaves read. Typing in “Cancer,” she quickly answered yes to the question about wanting children, linked her Spotify playlists, but declined to link her Instagram account.

She clicked on the verification code and was told she was good to go. Anticipation thrummed and she was busy scrolling through a cornucopia of men when her mother walked into the kitchen. Alice laid her phone face down on the table. Karen immediately frowned at the mess.

“Sorry.” Alice shoved the contents back into the voluminous bag and put it under her chair. As much as Alice appreciated the cheap board her parents offered, she and her mother didn’t have the same definition of tidy and they never had.

Karen set down the stack of magazines she was holding. “It looks like you need to clean out that bag.” Since Nick’s bombshell, irritable was her mother’s default setting. She glanced toward a small counter in the corner of the kitchen. “Did you go to the post office?”

Alice face palmed. “Sorry, I forgot, but funny story! Tansy Donovan read my tea leaves and—”

“Honestly, Alice! What’s wrong with you? Lately, you’re forgetting everything.”

“Sorry. I’m not sleeping very well. My head’s full of Libby.” And Tim. And four jobs. And the fact you told me you couldn’t get pregnant again after thirty-three.

“It doesn’t leave room for much else. I’m going back into town for work tonight so I’ll pick up the mail then. Promise.”

“I’m sorry.” Karen gave herself a shake. “My head’s full of Libby too. I feel like I’m treading on egg shells every time I talk to her.” She pushed the magazines toward Alice. “Hilary’s had a clear out. She insisted I bring these home for you, but I only accepted because I thought they might be useful for Summerhouse. Please don’t leave them scattered all over the house.”