My baby sister came to the rescue. When I called Frannie and told her what happened, hoping she might bring the girls over as a distraction, she offered to have my kids at her house for a sleepover.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Both of them?”

“Yeah, why not? We’ve got the room—Whit can sleep with Millie, Winnie can bunk in with Felicity for the night, and Keaton can have Winnie’s room. Plus, it’s movie night tonight, and Mack got to choose, so it’ll be something Star Wars for sure. Doesn’t Keaton love Star Wars?”

“He’s obsessed,” I told her. “You’re the best. Should I feed them?”

“Nope, we’re ordering in. Just bring them over any time.”

The kids were excited about the sleepover and packed their bags right away. I was dismayed to see that Whitney came downstairs with a fresh application of makeup on, but I didn’t say anything. Maybe she was trying to cover up the fact that she’d been crying.

I dropped them off around six, giving Frannie an extra-long hug at the door before I left.

“You okay?” she said, looking at me anxiously.

“Me? I’m fine,” I told her, although it wasn’t entirely the truth. “It’s the kids I’m worried about. Did you see Whitney’s face?”

She glanced over her shoulder toward the noise. “I wondered about that.”

“I assume it’s some kind of armor. Maybe she feels like it protects her or something. Or it makes her feel tough.” I grimaced. “Hopefully she doesn’t ask to give Mack’s girls a makeover.”

Frannie waved a hand in the air. “It’s just makeup. I’m not worried.”

“I am.” I shook my head, fighting tears. “I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing. Like the decisions I’m making right now are going to affect my kids forever. One minute I’m confident about them, and the next I’m doubting everything. Was it right to move them here? I don’t know. Should I take the makeup away from Whitney? I don’t know. Should I play nicer with Brett so he doesn’t take it out on the kids to spite me? I don’t know. I’m a fucking mess, Frannie.”

“You’re not. You’re just worn out.” She squeezed my arm. “Take the night off from being Mom and do some things for you. Drink wine in the tub. Read a romance novel. Watch porn.”

That actually made me laugh. “I have never watched porn in my life.”

“Maybe you should.” Her eyes lit up. “Or play with toys—the adult kind.”

“I don’t own any.”

She shook her head. “Jeez, I thought I was sheltered. Now I know what to get you for your birthday.”