“She’s a stranger to me,” Jeremy interrupted. His mouth was set in a line that said he’d brook no arguments.

Even so, Lu tried again. “You should get to know her. Then she won’t be a stranger anymore. She’s delightful.”

“That’s enough, Lu.” Jeremy put his hands to his temples and rubbed hard. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I don’t want to get to know her. We don’t need to be spending money we don’t have when my mother is right here, and when you’re home all day. I want you to fire her.”

The words were right there on the tip of her tongue. I have money. Sort of a lot of money, actually. More sponsor money had come in recently, and her affiliate sales for the Instant Pot had really picked up after that macaroni-and-cheese post from May. If things kept going at this rate, by next year she’d be earning almost as much as Jeremy did, especially if the cookbook worked out. If she really focused, if she really worked hard, if she could squeeze more working hours into every day, she could earn legitimate money.

Tell him, Lu. ’Fess up now, tell him. Maybe he won’t be mad. Maybe he’ll be proud, just the way you want him to be. Maybe he’ll be relieved.

But she knew he wouldn’t be any of those things. She knew if she brought up Dinner by Dad now, they’d have a fight not only about that but also about a third baby. She wouldn’t be able to hide how she felt about that.

Readers, wrote Dinner by Dad the next day, do you ever just feel like giving up on everything? Do you ever feel like it’s just not worth it, any of it?

Three hundred and seventy-six readers posted follow-up comments. Leo needed to keep his chin up. Leo was doing important work. Leo had only to look at Sammy and Charlie to see how much what he was doing mattered. Leo couldn’t give up on them, not now, not anytime!

Chapter 28

JOY

OLIVIA ROSSI HAD the day off, one of the college kids was sick (read: hungover), and the other was mixing a batch of filling in the back. That meant Joy was in the shop all day. Off-season she would have ducked out to meet Maggie at the ferry after her visit to Dustin’s, but in the height of summer when the ferry was due in, Joy Bombs had a good-sized line. Instead of walking down to greet Maggie, Joy was working the cappuccino machine like it was a cello and she was Yo-Yo Ma. She was cutting up sample whoopie pies to put in the case. She was making change and running credit cards.

Joy and Anthony had a seven-thirty reservation at Winfield’s. Joy was beyond excited; she was going to have the seared scallops to start and then the grilled swordfish. Or maybe the halibut.

When the bell on the door tinkled she glanced up, prepared to give her signature I’m-the-owner-and-I-want-to-make-you-feel-welcome hello, and her eyes fell on . . . Dustin.