Sherri briefly relived the shame of the surf and turf at Plum Island Grille. “No,” she said. “We’re none of those things. We eat everything. Thank you. This is so—” She felt her voice catch, and she told herself to pull it together. “This is so nice of you.” She tucked her T-shirt closer around her bathing suit. Rebecca had disrobed immediately upon arrival at the beach, showing a body that was nicely toned. She’d bet Rebecca could get through the “glutes” at barre class without feeling like somebody was cutting up her muscles with a Swiss Army knife.

Rebecca’s eyes were on Morgan and Katie. “Did you ever want to have more than one child? Sometimes I feel like Morgan is an only child, she and my older daughter are at such different stages.”

“I definitely wanted more than one,” said Sherri. She had wanted four children, but Bobby said only one. Too much noise made him twitchy; chaos threw him off. He liked everything just so in the house, and even Katie’s possessions, her shoes tossed here and there, sometimes put him over the edge. For a criminal, he was very fastidious. Or maybe all criminals were fastidious. Sherri had never surveyed the other wives about that in particular. Though some of them volunteered marital secrets without being asked for them, so Sherri knew more than she wanted to know about, for example, Tony Cancio and the toe fetish. She wished she could un-know that one.

Maybe it was the alcoholic seltzer talking, or maybe it was the beauty of the summer day, lulling her into an unwarranted state of complacency. Sherri felt, almost, like Rebecca was someone she could confide in. That was a dangerous feeling, and it had to be stopped at all costs. There was no person anywhere Sherri could confide in. She cast about for a change in subject, and her eyes caught on Rebecca’s wedding ring. “What did you say your husband does?” asked Sherri.

“He’s gone,” said Rebecca. She twisted her wedding ring.

“Like, for good?” Sherri asked. Absconded? A deserter?

“He died,” said Rebecca. “Eighteen months ago.”

13.

Rebecca

Rebecca had it down to a brief explanation, like a school report with a time limit. “He had a ruptured brain aneurysm at Logan airport, after a flight from Dubai. He managed a contracting company and he was in charge of a long-term project there. He was completely healthy. It came from out of nowhere; it was a huge shock.”

“Oh my gosh,” said Sherri. “Really? I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” The dichotomy between the bright, hot day and this news of a death would probably make Sherri clam up. Rebecca was always doing that, she felt—injecting her tragedy into someone else’s sunshine.

She lifted her eyes to meet Sherri’s and said, “How would you have known? We just met. It’s a perfectly normal question.”