“If you need us to help . . .” I offered. A last-minute ticket over Christmas would cost the moon. But it would be worth it, to have my sister home.

“No, no,” Amy said. “I’m fine. You know me, I’ll find something to do. How are you all? How’s Mama?” She pronounced the word the French way, MaMA.

“Momma’s fine.” Should I tell Amy about the fall? But she’d been so upset, leaving when our mother was in the hospital. I didn’t want to worry her more. “Sweetie, I have to go. John and I are going to a party tonight at Sallie Moffatt’s.”

“Oh.” Amy’s pretty face fell. “I should let you get dressed.”

“I am dressed.”

“Not for a party at Sallie Moffat’s.”

I glanced down at my black slacks and sweater. “What’s wrong with what I have on?”

“Nothing, if you want to look like Mom. Do you still have that red dress? The wrap one?”

“It doesn’t fit.”

“How do you know?”

“Amy, that dress is older than the twins. I bought it before I got pregnant.”

“It looked great on you. You should try it on. With shapewear, obviously.”

Five minutes later, I eyed my reflection in the mirror, my face almost as red as my dress.

“Hot,” Amy said.

“Very hot. I’m sweating from getting into this thing. And my stomach sticks out.”

“Nobody’s going to look at your stomach. They’ll be staring at your boobs.”

I laughed, slightly out of breath. The shapewear squished and reshaped my post-baby bod, squeezing my mommy tummy to cleavage. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“It should. The girls look great,” Amy said.

“Well.” I twisted and turned in front of the mirror. The dress swirled and settled around my knees, pretty and feminine. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

“Nope,” Amy said firmly. “Très élégant.”

I checked my reflection one final time. Bank Meg smiled back at me.

“Don’t you look pretty,” Miss Hannah said as I came downstairs.

“Thank you! Thanks for coming tonight.”

“It’s my pleasure. You all have a good time.”

I turned hopefully to John. He looked me up and down, smiling in the old way, his brown eyes warm. “Nice,” he said. “New dress?”

I twirled. “This old thing?”

“Pretty, Mommy!” Daisy said. DJ watched mistrustfully over his thumb.

“Thank you, sugarplum.” I stooped to kiss their smooth blond heads. Despite the shapewear, I could still bend. I breathed in their good, fresh-from-the-bath baby smell. “Be good for Miss Hannah now. Say night night to Daddy.”

They bounced into his arms. “Night night, Daddy.”

“Daddy, night.”

He hugged and kissed them. “Good night, cookie monsters. I love you.”

They hugged him back, all smiles. But when I got my coat, DJ clung and Daisy wailed.

“You go on,” Miss Hannah said. “We’ll be fine.”

I handed DJ over to her capable arms, feeling guilty.

“I’ve never left them with anyone but Momma,” I said to John in the car.