Enjoy them while they’re young! her mother would tell her if she were here. They won’t be young forever, it goes so fast.

But the career years go by fast too, Lu wanted to scream. Those are also finite. All of it goes by too fast, life goes by too fast. By the time Chase was off to college she’d be—well, old. Older. Old. Over fifty. She’d be tired. She’d definitely be out of touch. She’d have no connections; she’d be starting from scratch. She felt the shackles tightening around her. And if there was a third baby, she’d never get going.

When Joy saw Lu come into Joy Bombs the next day she stiffened visibly. “Hey,” Lu said. She tried to sound both upbeat and nonchalant—a tricky balance. She placed a large order: a dozen whoopie pies. She’d bring them to Nancy, who was taking the boys to lunch. Maggie had texted to say she had a hairline fracture in her wrist but that her cast was waterproof and she’d be back tomorrow. Lu also ordered a triple decaf cappuccino with a shot of almond syrup, and a raspberry whoopie pie to eat there. She didn’t want the almond syrup, but it cost seventy-five cents extra, and she wanted to spend as much money as she could, because she noticed that it wasn’t very crowded in the café. The Roving Patisserie probably was a legitimate threat.

When the pies were boxed up and the coffee was done, Lu asked Joy to sit with her for a minute.

“I don’t know,” said Joy. “I’m sort of busy.”

“I’m sure you are,” said Lu, looking at the empty tables. “I can tell. But I won’t keep you long. I promise.”

“Okay,” said Joy. She slid into the seat across from Lu. “Shoot.” She was fiddling with a coffee stirrer. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun, and she looked tired.

“Listen,” said Lu. “I want to apologize to you for the other night. I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner, right when Maggie showed up. I’m sorry I was the one to hear her story first. Did she tell you what happened?”

“She did,” said Joy. “After a while. And I felt like such an idiot, there was a text I had seen earlier in the summer, something about going for it, about someone who was older, and I got caught up in everything else, and I completely forgot. I let this happen. I basically broke her wrist for her.”

“No, you didn’t,” said Lu firmly. “You didn’t.” There was something else she’d come to say too. “I’m sorry I took her away from you so much this summer. I’m sorry if I did anything—anything—to offend you.”

Joy’s face underwent a transformation. Her tight lips loosened; her eyes drooped. Her shoulders slumped forward. She looked like a blow-up doll whose air had suddenly been taken out. “No,” she said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I should be apologizing. I overreacted. I think . . .” She swiped at her eyes, and tied a knot in the coffee stirrer. “I think she likes you better, and that’s why I got so mad.” She started to cry.