“I really, really wanted a baby,” Jane said. “It was what I wanted most in the world. And now—” She didn’t finish.
Liz said, “But you know Chip, and you don’t know the baby yet. I’m sure we’ll find your baby totally delightful, but it’s hard for an abstract idea to compete with someone you’ve been hanging out with.” Lifting a beaded bracelet from the top of the bureau, Liz added, “I keep meaning to tell you I found a website for this organization called Alone But Together. It’s for women who choose to have kids on their own.”
Jane smiled sadly. “I’ve been a paid member for two years. You haven’t said anything to Mom, have you?”
“God, no.” That Jane wouldn’t be able to hide her secret indefinitely was a fact that Liz assumed she didn’t need to convey. And Jane’s wish to leave Cincinnati was wholly understandable to Liz, even if the idea of staying behind without Jane was disheartening. As Liz slid the bracelet over her left hand, she thought of the year Jane had skipped May Fete because she, Liz, had chicken pox. Liz meant it when she said, “Whatever you want to do, you have my support.”
ONCE AGAIN, THE scent of nail polish led Liz to Kitty; this time, Kitty was creating on her fingers an intricate tiger pattern of black stripes over a reddish-orange background.
“Lydia and Ham seem kind of serious,” Liz said. “Are they?”
As she dipped the brush back into the bottle of black polish, Kitty said, “Ask her.”
“Will you suggest that she invite him to a family dinner? I think Jane and Chip might be done, and meeting Ham could soften the blow for Mom.”
Still focused on her fingers, Kitty said, “If you want to make Mom happy, marry Willie.”
“Ham seems like a good guy, but if I tell Lydia to invite him, she’ll refuse just to spite me.”
Kitty glanced up. “Do you know Ham?”
“I’ve talked to him a few times. Why?”
“There are things about him that might surprise you.” The smug and coy expression on Kitty’s face—Liz didn’t care for it.
Nevertheless, she said, “Like what?”
Kitty shrugged. “Just things.”
“Is he actually a jerk?”
“No.” Really, Kitty looked irritatingly pleased with herself. Partly to change the subject and partly because it was true, Liz gestured at Kitty’s nails and said, “Have you ever considered doing that professionally? You’re really good at it.”
Kitty’s expression turned sour. “You’re so condescending.”
“Kitty, I work in an industry where the best makeup artists and stylists are treated like rock stars. Not that those kinds of careers are the norm, but I bet a regular person can make a decent salary.” Or a regular person could make a salary that compared favorably, Liz thought, to no income at all.
Kitty was watching Liz with doubt. “Why did Chip and Jane break up?”
“I’m not sure if they want the same things.”
“He dumped her?”
“They’re still not officially finished, but I think it’s mutual.” Briefly, Liz was tempted to ask if what Lydia had declared several nights prior in the kitchen was true—that everyone in the family knew about Jasper. He was due to arrive in Cincinnati the following week, and as the date approached, Liz had become increasingly conscious of the oddness of hiding his visit from her family. Yet surely the oddness of his entering the Tudor, which she had no plans for, would be even greater. At least he’d meet Charlotte; for the second of Jasper’s two nights in town, Liz had made a dinner reservation at Boca, for which Jane also would join them, assuming she was still around.
In any case, asking Kitty about Jasper would eliminate all doubt, and whether because of age difference, geography, or temperament, Liz had never spoken openly to her younger sisters. In certain ways, they knew one another well, they recognized one another’s habits and preferences; yet years could pass without a conversation of real substance occurring between them.
“Chip once had a patient who’d stuck a lime up his butt,” Kitty said. “Did you know that?”
“I can only imagine what questions you asked to elicit that information.”
Kitty grinned. “Maybe Chip’s proud that he got it out.”
AS LIZ AND Mr. Bennet left the rehabilitation center after his physical therapy appointment, her phone buzzed with a confusing and unpunctuated text from Jane: Chip gone Calling Jane in front of their father was impossible; then, as they headed south on 71, Mr. Bennet said, “Stop by the fish market, will you? I’d like some oysters.”
She knew he meant the smoked kind, and Liz tried to remember whether smoked oysters were healthy. She said, “A Seven Hills classmate of mine is a real estate agent now, and he can come over and discreetly look at the house. What do you think?”
“Supposing I say no—in that case, what time will this fellow show up?”
If the situation were not so dire, Liz might have felt abashed. She said, “He’s free tomorrow at the same time Mom has a Women’s League meeting.”
“Of course he is.”