But now even Josie was pulling away from Tyler—Josie who brought his measuring tape to school when he forgot it, who carried toothpicks in her purse for him to count when he felt anxious, who never forced hugs or kisses on him. And his mother was no better. Mary had been working more and more—attending at the hospital, researching in the lab, and trying to get a grant proposal in by Thanksgiving. She was tired and irritable, and she alternately wanted to be alone with the kids or have them as far away from her as possible, but it was impossible to tell which until she was either snapping at Josie or yelling at Tyler. Josie reasoned that the tension would pass. Mary was under a lot of pressure; Josie was keeping only their agreed-upon hours now. New circumstances took adjusting to. But Devesh disagreed. “She wants you all for herself,” he said. “What nanny do you know that has a glass of wine waiting for her mistress when she comes home?” “I don’t do that anymore.” Josie scowled, but she had. Still, Josie knew it was more than that, felt Mary’s resentment tunneling more often to the surface—each bitter comment pushing Josie a bit farther away from the girl who wanted nothing more than to share a cigarette with Mary.

But it was Tyler she felt most sorry for. So, one hot afternoon when he begged to go to the park, and she wanted nothing more than to sit under the cool blast of the air conditioner and drink iced tea, she buckled his sandals and told him that if Maddy got too hot, they would have to go home. She thought she would push him on the swings for a few minutes, let him make tiny mountains of sand for a while, and then tell him Maddy needed to be inside, but when they got to the park, she found Phillip sprawled under a magnolia tree cutting coupons.