“You did,” said Scott. “You were skating around the neighborhood with that girlfriend you had. Remember her? Her name was—”

“Veronica.” Still Bea looked blank. “Right. With the great legs.”

“Yes, Veronica. You’d just gotten back from Corfu. You wore these tiny jean shorts to roller-skate around the neighborhood. I was studying outside on a blanket on the lawn. I don’t even think you noticed me. You girls stopped in front of the mailbox. You were looking for a letter—”

“Harry Berry…”

“You told the whole story to Veronica. How you’d fallen in love. How he was going to write to you in code. You weren’t surprised there was no letter yet. You’d just gotten back that week.”

“No.” Bea put a hand to her mouth.

“It’s the least proud moment of my life,” he choked. “I’ve loved you since I could remember, Bea. You were this gangly girl dancing in the sprinklers. I loved you when my father died and you brought me a canvas and paintbrushes and told me painting helped when you were lost. Do you remember that? You sat beside me and did your own sketching, and I painted only black on that canvas. You looked at my terrible painting and said, I’m really sorry.

“That was the year before, Bea. I was lost that year. My mom went to pieces, and I moved home to take care of her. Otherwise, she did things like forget to shower for two weeks. That’s why I was studying for the bar at home. That’s why I was there when you got back from Corfu. We talked a bit then. I thought maybe you were even flirting with me. When you said the whole Harry Berry thing—”

“No!”

“Well, it’s certainly the thing I’m most ashamed of in my whole life. You were at classes that summer. Your dad was working. Your mother hardly went outside. Just at—”

“Four in the afternoon,” said Bea slowly.

Scott nodded. “To get the mail. But the mailman came around two. A few times, I went to your mailbox. I peeked inside. I told myself I was just curious. You remember, your mailbox was right next to mine.”

“Yes.” Bea put a hand to her throat.

“Oh my God,” said Joey.

“A few days later there was a letter.”

“Harry Berry,” said Bea.

“Fuck this Harry Berry,” said Lily. “Can we get to the part where we talk about what shitty people you both are? Where we talk about how you deceived me my whole life?”

“I want to hear this part,” said Joey. “Go on, Dad.”