“I’m always right,” I said. Which technically wasn’t a lie. Alice hadn’t gotten any other messages. Did I feel guilty not telling her or Bettina about the bonfire photo? Sure. But it had only been four days. Soon Pia would have answers, so why worry them when we didn’t have all the facts straight yet?

Speak of the devil, Pia sauntered over, draped in a cardigan-scarf, the bangles on her arm jingling like church bells. “Hello, my dears.”

“You look nice,” I said.

“Went on a shopping spree today. Marlon sent me my check.” She rubbed her fingers together. “Best day of the month.”

“Ah, so you’ll be busy this weekend,” I said.

Pia always prowled the dating sites after she got her alimony. One afternoon, Bettina and I had snooped and found her profile. She’d written that she was a “free spirit” looking for “a man who feels as comfortable on a saddle as he does in a tuxedo.” We had laughed at that for days. The only problem was that I’d had to create an account to view it, and I was still getting emails about my perfect matches, no matter that I deleted the account or how many times I clicked Unsubscribe.

“What did you get Sloane?” I asked.

“What every girl needs. A fast-drying hair towel and some face masks.” She winked, then said, not subtly to me, “We have to talk by the way. I heard from Jimmy-O.”

“Jimmy-O? About what?” Alice asked.

Pia gave me an are-you-kidding-me look, but I ignored it, relieved that Bettina, who had gotten the tablecloth under control, was heading straight for us and distracted Alice. We gave her the obligatory comments about how nice the party was going.

“Oh this is just part one. I’m taking her downtown to the Mandarin next weekend for a girls’ spa day and afternoon tea. Joe has no idea how much it’s costing or his brains would splat out of his ears.” She smoothed her hair, then said to me, “Paul’s not here?”

I shook my head. “He wasn’t feeling well.”

“He’s been sick a lot lately, hasn’t he?” Alice asked, chewing on a celery stick. “I saw his car the other day in the drive.”

“When?” I asked, puzzled. Truth was, Paul hated neighborhood gatherings. Always had. It was a chore to drag him along, so I’d given up on it entirely. But before I could pry further, Theresa rounded the corner into the yard, tapping a pink birthday card in her palm. I waved her over.

“Hey, guys.” She handed Bettina the card. “Sorry Adam and Lily couldn’t make it. They’re on their way back from Philly now.”

“Oh my god, y’all did such a great job with the decorations at your house, by the way,” Alice gushed. “I love them so much.”