“Great. You should come sometime. I keep telling you. It’s great for stress.”

Suzanne rolled her eyes. “It’s boring. Yoga’s boring.”

“May God smite you,” Allison said.

“I think he already has.”

“That bad? How are the house plans coming?” Allison opened one of the books she’d left Suzanne from the library, books with titles like The Not So Big House, and Creating the Not So Big House, and Inside the Not So Big House.

“Can I have some sparkling water, Mommy?”

“I’ll get it,” Allison said.

“I’d like a slice of lemon, too, please,” Adam said.

“Jillian can come babysit anytime, you know. She’s sweet with him,” Suzanne said.

“I haven’t seen a lot of her recently. She’s wall-to-wall after-school clubs these days.” Allison set Adam up with his water, broke an oatmeal cookie in two, kept half for herself and handed the other half to Suzanne.

“Clubs sound good,” Suzanne said, chewing.

“I guess. She’s been such a loner since her friend Sofia moved away. I guess they keep her busy though, right?”

“Gives you the whole day to yourself.”

“I have plenty to do. It’s not like I sit around and eat bonbons.”

“I know.”

“She’s cagey these days. Won’t talk about where she’s been. Her grades are down.”

“She’s nearly thirteen, right? Sounds pretty normal to me.”

Adam eyed them darkly. “I can’t hear about the conifers.”

Allison nodded at Adam, her finger to her lip. “Have you considered allergies?” she whispered.

“What?”

“Maybe his headaches are from allergies. Maybe you just need to get the dairy out of his diet or something. I know a good allergist.”

Suzanne brightened. She loved Allison: Allison, who brought lemon bars. Allison, who came up with ailments that had a cure. “You’re an angel. Give me that tea.” Suzanne cradled her cup in her hands, feeling warm, feeling safe, feeling cared for.

AGAINST ALL ODDS, ALLISON AND SUZANNE’S FRIENDSHIP WAS GOING just the way Allison had imagined it, with Allison the one Suzanne could rely on when things were bleak. Allison felt like a character in a fairy tale whose wish had been granted.

And, perhaps more amazingly, a second wish had been granted, something she’d just about given up on. Ted had surprised her the night before, presenting her with a small prescription bottle from the pharmacy while they were brushing their teeth. Toothpaste foam frothed from both of their mouths as she studied it, but it made no sense. A prescription for sildenafil? What was sildenafil? She looked at him, puzzled, and spat into the sink.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” he said, spitting in turn.

“What is it?”

He’d gotten a prescription for Viagra after Thanksgiving. Sildenafil was generic Viagra. Viagra was expensive, he explained, but the generic stuff was cheap. They could have sex every night if she wanted. It was that cheap.