Frances shrugged and looked down.
“Were you happy?”
“You know?” Frances lifted her gaze, smiling softly. “Unreasonably so. We had a son. Aaron. He’s married now with kids of his own. And he wants me to move to Omaha so he can put me in a senior living home.”
“Oof,” Edie said. “Aren’t you worried about STDs?”
Frances gaped at her. “How does everyone know about that but me? Anyway, I’m not going. What about you? Did you have kids?”
“Oh, lots. Four in all. Six grandkids and another one on the way.”
Frances smiled, obviously delighted by the news. “That makes me so happy. I know how important it was to you. I always hopedthat you were rotting in prison, but if you weren’t, I hoped you had the family you always wanted.”
“That’s so sweet,” Edie said, and meant it.
“Are you guys going to continue with the lovefest? How long do we have to wait?”
Edie turned to the opening to see Irene and Joan standing just below. “What the hell? Do none of you take instruction?”
“Girl, did we ever?” Joan asked, and stepped up first. She was tall and slender and had a sleek bob, which was quite different from yesterday’s Godiva hair. “Ah, Joan,” Edie said, and pulled her into a hug. “You look amazing! What’s with the hair?”
“Options,” Joan said. “It’s hard to rock an Afro at this age.”
“Hi, Edie.”
Edie looked around Joan. Irene was standing behind her, wearing her usual sour look. It had taken Edie a very long time to learn her permanent resting bitch face was not indicative of how she felt about anything. “Well, well, if it’s not Mean Irene.”
“And if it’s not Pretty Shitty Edie,” Irene said. They both laughed, and Edie pulled her in for a hug, too. Then, Edie stood back and looked at her friends. These three women who had meant everything to her once upon a time. They had been each other’s support, an ear, a jury of peers when men (or women, in Joan’s case) treated them ill. The three most important people to her.
“So … yesterday was a bit much,” Irene said.
“Ya think?” Edie looked around at the three of them. The three of them gazed back with expectation, like they deserved an answer. “What is the matter with you? Simon was right upstairs. Don’t you remember how dangerous he is?”
“I remember,” Joan said. “But you know … we have less to lose now, I guess.”
Something about the truth in that statement slapped at Edie’s thoughts. “He would take away your freedom in a minute. How did you even get here? How did you get involved with mygranddaughter?” A thought suddenly occurred to her. “You’re not scamming her, are you? You’re not part of that Rocco—”
“Nana.”
Edie turned around. The number of appearances in this round gazebo was making her dizzy. Now Marcy had appeared carrying a soft-sided cooler with a strap over her shoulder. She put it on the table next to the firepit and unzipped it, then pulled out champagne glasses.
Edie stared at her in shock, uncertain what was happening. “Marcy, what in heaven’s name are you doing? This is not a party.”
Marcy pulled out a bottle of champagne. “I have never known you to have this many friends over and not offer them some libation. I ran into them in town this morning and we had a chat.”
Edie instantly cast wild, accusing looks at her friends. Frances held her hands up, as if she had nothing to do with it. Very doubtful.
“And yesterday was weird,” Marcy continued. “I thought maybe you’d want to apologize for your behavior.”
It was beginning to feel a bit overwhelming having the unexpected blast from her past mixing with her granddaughter. Two worlds carefully kept apart. “I beg your pardon, but these three showed up without invitation. I would say the faux pas is on them.” She took the champagne from Marcy’s hands and set it on the table. “This is not a reunion. I mean, obviously it is, but not the sort you think. We,” she said, gesturing to the four of them, “have unfinished business that I would very much like to finish. Now, I know you have a lot of questions, and I promise to answer them as well as I can. But later. Let me take care of this first. Go back to the house.”
Marcy didn’t move. “Nana, listen. I know—”
“You know nothing,” Edie said sternly. “I don’t know what they’ve told you, but it’s probably not true.”
“That’s hurtful,” said Irene.
Edie ignored her. “I don’t want you anywhere near them, Marcy. They are a terrible influence.”
