Frannie squealed and bounced around. “Oh my God, Sylvia! That’s amazing!” She stopped moving. “Wait—was it amazing?”

I nodded. “It really was. I haven’t been able to think about anything else all day.”

“Wow. So you and Henry.”

“There’s not really a me and Henry. We’re not exactly sure what we’re doing,” I admitted.

“Do you have to know right now? I mean, can’t you guys just see where it goes?”

“That’s sort of the plan,” I told her. “So don’t say anything to anyone, okay?”

“My lips are sealed,” she said, pretending to zip them shut. “I won’t even tell Mack if you don’t want me too.”

I didn’t like asking my sister to keep a secret from her husband, but I felt like the fewer people who knew right now, the better. “Thanks. I don’t think Henry would mind if Mack knew, but—”

Frannie held up her hands. “Do not worry. I totally get it. When Mack and I were first messing around, it was the same way—we had to keep it from everyone, especially the kids.” She dropped her arms. “Although, as it turns out, we weren’t really fooling them.”

Frowning, I said, “Yeah, kids are smart. And mine have been through so much, I just don’t want to add any complications.”

“But you deserve to be happy too, Syl,” Frannie said softly. “And if spending time with Henry makes you happy, I say go for it.”

“Thanks.” I looked down at my hands in my lap, wishing it were that easy. “I’m supposed to go over to the winery and see him later tonight. Now I wonder if I shouldn’t just stay here and be with the kids. Talk to Whitney.”

“Can’t you do both?”

“Maybe.” That was really the question, wasn’t it? Could I be the kind of mother I needed to be and also have this sexy thing with Henry on the side?

I wasn’t sure I really wanted the answer to that question.

Downstairs, Whitney begged me to let Millie sleep over, and Frannie said it was okay with her. I said it was fine, relieved that at least I was off the hook tonight—I didn’t want to have the Instagram conversation with anyone else around. Plus, I needed some time to think about how I was going to approach it. I didn’t want to be angry and accusatory—that was not a tactic that worked well with preteen girls. And it wasn’t like I didn’t understand her desire to feel beautiful.