She went back to her kitchen, where it was quiet and cool. Where she could sit for just a couple of minutes. Listening to Bibi had depressed her, and she needed to shake it off.

Loveless marriages, unhappy homes, the X factor of another woman. She knew exactly the sort of miserable brew those ingredients created—and how long the bitter aftertaste could linger.

Surely Sarah had tasted some of that brew, and likely more than once. Yet she’d stood beaming joy on her father’s arm. The father who’d been unfaithful to her mother, the father who’d broken the very vows she herself was about to make.

Yes, she understood unhappy marriages, but she didn’t understand and couldn’t accept using that unhappiness as an excuse or rationale for being unfaithful.

Why didn’t people just end it? If they wanted someone else, or something else, why not break it off clean first instead of cheating, lying, tolerating, just existing?

Divorce couldn’t be more painful for a couple, or the child or children stirred up in that brew with them, than the deceit, the pretense, that smoldering anger. Wasn’t that why, even after all these years, a part of her wished her parents would walk away from each other instead of pretending to be married?

“Well, and here I’ve come in to see if I can help since you had all that trouble.” Mrs. Grady fisted her hands on her hips. “And here you are loafing.”

“I’m about to get to it.”

Lips pursed, Mrs. Grady walked over to tap Laurel’s chin up so their eyes met. “And what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing really.”

Mrs. Grady had a way of using her eyebrows in certain expressions that had very clear nonverbal meanings. At the moment, they said bullshit.

“It’s just that whole business before got under my skin. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not the first time you’ve had donnybrooks at one of these dos. Won’t be the last either.”

“No. It’s not really the fight. That—after the fact—was pretty entertaining. Parker won’t think so for a couple of days, but really, it had shining moments.”

“You’re circling around it.”

“It’s stupid. I ended up with the stepmother. Luck of the draw. I guess she felt sad and embarrassed, so she had to explain to me how she’d gotten involved with the FOB when he was sort of, but not really, separated, and how he and his first wife weren’t together so much as just occupying the same house.”

“Most of the men who want a taste of something fresh say something like that.”