“Not really.” Poppy was surprised it took Ann so long to tell them. It was a big deal, sure, but what had Ann been worried about? Did she think they’d kick her out, send her away to some reform school? It didn’t take long for them to adjust to the idea, especially her mom, who’d been by Ann’s side ever since she’d found out about the baby. She was even excited about it, coming home from shopping trips with a tiny pair of baby socks she’d found, or an adorable little onesie, and they’d ooh and aah. Her dad’s response was more complicated. He flipped when he heard the news, got in his car and disappeared for a few hours every day. Later, he told Poppy that he’d driven all over the city trying to find Michael. He wasn’t anywhere he’d looked; not in his old apartment building, the gym, running along the Oak Leaf Trail or Lake Drive or at any of his old haunts or friends’ houses. What would her dad have done if he’d found him? He was just as likely to knock Michael’s lights out as to give him a hug, depending on where he was in the arc of his anger—anger that settled into a deep hurt. “I really did think of Michael as a son,” he’d said, his face in his hands. “I thought he was mine.” This obsession with finding Michael never let up. Poppy saw him scan for Michael at the grocery store, under the trees in Riverside Park, sitting in the food court at Bayshore Mall, waiting for him to walk into the classroom—anywhere, everywhere. Poppy understood, because, confused as she was by what Michael had done, she looked out for him, too, refusing to believe he was truly gone.

Angie threw an empty can of Miller Lite into the fire. “I saw Ann the other day at Walgreens. She was huge.”

Poppy agreed. Her sister was huge. She was all body now, hippy, chubbier, and big-breasted. Her golden hair had grown thick and plentiful during the pregnancy. Poppy had never seen Ann look more beautiful.

Kurt said, “You ever hear that Bill Cosby routine about childbirth, how it’s as easy as pulling your lower lip over the top of your head?”

“You guys, stop it,” Poppy said. She might have been more upset without the comforting sensation of the mushrooms. She liked the way they made her feel so … atmospheric, like hazy weather in her brain.