“You’re still a fucking lush,” Beth says, but clearly the joke is an old one between them, because they both laugh.

I don’t think it’s funny, but I smile grimly. “Addiction is hard to overcome. Some people use drugs. Some drink wine in the middle of the morning. Some make themselves puke after eating.”

Shots. Fired. Beth blinks rapidly, her mouth thinning, but not into a frown. Her grim smile is also grudgingly respectful.

“I haven’t done that since high school,” she says.

Lisa lifts her glass. “Well, I’m unabashedly a midmorning drunk, and I’m not ready to quit it yet. So cheers, bitches.”

Beth leans forward to clink her glass against Lisa’s, and after a second, so do I. They drink. I sip. The wine is too sweet for me.

Beth gives a low, throaty laugh. “When is your hubby supposed to be home?”

“Later today. Maybe tonight.” Somehow, that glass of too-sweet wine is empty. I lift my face to the out-of-season sunshine and close my eyes. The weather this week is still supposed to be in the seventies, but fall is inevitable, and winter after that, and I’m looking forward to it. Long, dark nights, excuses not to leave the house. Frozen ground.

“Same,” Beth says in a different tone this time. “Only mine’s not traveling. He’s just ‘working late’ with that bitch from accounting.”

It’s the first time since she got here that she sounds sincere about something. A little sad. Lisa leans over to squeeze her shoulder and gives me a look. I’m not sure what she expects me to say.

“You get married, you think it’s supposed to last forever, right? And then your husband starts ‘traveling.’ Or ‘staying late at the office.’” Beth draws in a long, deep sigh. “I’m like, living in a Mad Men episode, I swear. And maybe if I was married to Don Draper I could deal with it, but I’m married to Steve Richards, who works for a furniture warehouse and can’t get his athlete’s foot under control. I mean, he has it on his damned balls because he can’t keep his hands off them.”

She convulses with disgust, squirming in her chair. Lisa bursts out a small, strangled laugh and looks embarrassed. Beth glares at her, then dissolves into slightly sodden laughter herself, a mix of tears and hilarity. I join after a few seconds, not sure what the hell is going on. A flare of sympathy for Beth surprises me.

“It’s disgusting,” Beth says.

Lisa looks sympathetic. “Men are pigs.”

“I know. But who else would have me?”

I share a look with Lisa. Hers says she’s heard this all before, but I’m stunned. Beth had been a pretty girl, and she became a pretty woman. I doubt she has to work at it, either. Not as hard as I do.

Beth turns to me. “You don’t have any clue. Look at you. You look better than you did in high school. I’ve got an ass the size of the Titanic. Crow’s feet. And I’ve seen your husband around town, Jewelann. He’s hot.”