“No,” said Max.

“We try to stay away from processed sugar,” said Cassie.

“Good luck with that,” said Joy. “You’re in a bakery.” She was reminded of the untimely, damaging visit from Shelly Salazar, book publicist. She went into the kitchen and returned with a plate of leftover pies in assorted flavors—she’d been planning to bring them home to Maggie. But Maggie, who still had not answered Joy’s text, clearly did not deserve any whoopie pies.

Joy put half of the pies on a plate for Max and half on a plate for her and Cassie. She pulled out three chairs at one of the four-tops, but Cassie said, “I’m just going to let him sit at a different table, if that’s okay.”

Joy shrugged and said, “Suit yourself.” Then, relenting a little, she pointed toward the kids’ table that had a basket of toys next to it. “He’s welcome to sit there,” she said. Without meaning to, she kept stealing surreptitious glances at Cassie. She was so pretty. Her skin was porcelain, and her hair was perfect, and her clothes fit perfectly. She looked like an adult version of a super-Caucasian American Girl doll.

Cassie set Max up at the small table. “Can I have your phone?” he asked.

“No,” she said. Then, “Oh, I guess, why not?” To Joy: “I’m normally very strict about electronics. But I kind of feel like everything’s gone out the window this summer.”

“I know what you mean,” said Joy.

Cassie rooted in her handbag and said, “Oh, shoot, I must have left it at the hotel. Max, play with the toys.” She rooted some more. “Found it! But I’m sick of it. Turning it off.”

Joy indicated the plate. “Help yourself.”

“No, thank you.”

Joy took two and bit into the first one ostentatiously. For a moment the two women stared at each other. Cassie’s eyes were a light icy blue. Looking at them felt to Joy potentially dangerous, like looking directly at the sun during an eclipse.

“I do know who you are,” said Joy. “And it’s over between Anthony and me, so really, you have nothing to worry about.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” said Cassie. “That’s not what I’m here for. You know what? Fuck it.” She glanced guiltily at Max, but he was absorbed in a picture book from the toy box and he didn’t react. She took a peanut butter surprise pie (the surprise was the bits of Heath bar in the filling) and allowed herself the smallest bite possible. “Oh, my God. These things are amazing.”

Joy was starting to like Cassie a tiny bit better. “So what are you here for?” she asked.

“I’ve been married to Anthony for five years,” said Cassie. She blinked her annoyingly long eyelashes (and so dark! with Cassie so blond! extensions?) and pursed her glossy lips at Joy. “And I hate to say it, but I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time. Maybe ever.”

“Well, I haven’t seen him since July. He’s probably happy because we broke up.” Joy stood. Max, from the small table, looked up, alarmed, and pulled the plate of whoopie pies closer to him.