“Because your kid’s in high school,” Cherisse pointed out. “It’s her job to keep things from you.”

“Really? Did we do that?”

“Oh, let me count the ways.”

“But if a pack of girls was coming after me, I would have told you.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.”

Camille twisted her watch around and around her wrist. “I just want to fix this for her.”

Her mother covered her hand, stopping the nervous gesture. “You might need to step back and let Julie figure things out for herself.”

“That’s not fair. It’s like throwing her to the wolves. God, teen girls can be so awful.”

“And so strong. Look at the three of us. We’ve all weathered storms in our lives.”

“If you asked Julie what she wants to do about this, what would she say?” asked Britt.

That we should all go to France for the summer. The answer popped uninvited into Camille’s head. Ever since her father had brought up the idea, it was all Julie talked about. As for Camille, she vacillated, lying awake at night and asking herself: Should I stay or should I go? Should she accompany her father on a journey to his boyhood home, or cling to the life she had built so carefully for herself?

On the one hand, it was just for the summer. On the other hand, it was half a world away. For someone who never traveled, it might as well be on another planet.

“She’s into this crazy notion Papa has about visiting the village where he grew up,” she told them. “Which I know you’re aware of, since he already talked to you about it.”

“He did,” her mother said. “It’s a wonderful idea.”

“It’s absurd. I’m not dragging him and Julie to France for the summer.”

“If anyone’s being dragged,” Britt said, “it’s you. Also, ‘dragging’ and ‘France’ do not belong in the same sentence.”

Cherisse touched Camille’s hand. “Your father should do whatever he wants.”

Camille felt a sudden burn of tears, and her stomach clenched. She knew exactly what her mother was thinking. “I’m afraid something will happen to him.”

“And if it does, he’ll deal with it,” her mother said. “He’ll have you and Julie to help him.”

“I can’t help him if he’s in France.”

“Then go, for God’s sake,” Britt said. “Just go. If she’s being bullied, then taking her away for the summer might not be the worst idea,” said Britt. “Honestly, Cam, this sounds like a dream come true. Just so you know, if somebody tells me I should spend a summer in France, I’m not going to fight them.”

Because you wake up every day to a great guy and two kids, Camille thought. No nightmares of falling husbands.

“You can hang out with Professor Dreamboat while you’re there,” Britt added.

“Not dating, remember?” Camille scowled at her.

“Then just shag him. He’s gorgeous,” Britt burst out.

“Mom, do you hear the way she’s talking to me?” Camille asked their mother.