“I don’t know, Hope,” she said with a shrug. “For me, it was overwhelming right from the start. For your grandmother, too. If you’re lucky, maybe your curse won’t be as overwhelming.”
“If I’m lucky,” Hope agreed.
“I just wanted to let you know I’m heading out for the rest of the day. I’ll be back for dinner. Do you want me to cook something?”
Hope shook her head. “No thanks. I’m going out with the girls.”
Her mother eyed her with suspicion. Hope just raised her chin slightly, silently daring her to question the statement. “Okay. Text me if anything changes.”
“It probably won’t,” Hope said and tried to ignore the pangs of regret. She’d always envied Joy’s relationship with her mother. They were tight. The best of friends. It was something she’d wanted, especially considering she didn’t have any other close family. Instead, she’d ended up making Grace and Joy her family. It worked for her, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel the loss, nonetheless.
Angela nodded as she left the kitchen. A moment later, Hope heard the front door close softly as her mother left to do whatever she was going to do. Hope hadn’t even bothered to ask. Who did that?
Hope flopped down into a chair at her dining room table and buried her head in her hands. She was the worst daughter ever. First, she’d been rude, not once, but twice. And then, she’d lied about her dinner plans knowing her mother would see right through her.
She groaned and mentally berated herself for how she was handling her mother’s visit. If she kept being so childish, she was going to have to see a therapist about her mommy issues. She’d end up hating herself if she couldn’t find a way to meet her mother in the middle.
Hope got up from the table and moved into the kitchen. Without even thinking about it, she started pulling flour, sugar, and chocolate chips from her cupboard.
Forty-five minutes later, as she was pulling the cookies out of the oven, there was a loud knock on her door, followed by Grace calling out, “We’re here! Oh, son of a chocolate fairy. Do I smell cookies?”
“Yep. I’m in the kitchen.” Hope pulled two mugs out of her cabinet and set them on the counter.
Grace appeared first, wearing a chic white suit. Her auburn hair was tied into a sophisticated twist, and she looked like a million bucks. Joy followed her, and Hope did a double take when she saw her. Joy was the one who was always put together, but shockingly, she was wearing yoga pants and a gray T-shirt that said Not Today, Satan on the front. Her long blond hair was tied into a messy braid on one side, and her eyes were red as if she’d been crying.
“What happened?” Hope asked, automatically handing Joy a cookie.
Joy popped the entire cookie into her mouth and collapsed into one of the chairs at the table.
“It’s that bad?” Hope went to the kitchen and poured each of them a cup of coffee.
Joy nodded and mumbled something around the cookie.
“I think that means yes,” Grace said, grabbing the plate of cookies.
Considering Joy’s state, Hope grabbed the bottle of Irish whiskey and put it on the tray with the coffee mugs.
Once they were all seated, Hope passed Grace her mug and then slid one to Joy and said, “Decaf just for you.”
Grace grabbed the Irish whiskey, and without even asking, she poured a dollop into each of their cups.
“I’m glad someone else did it so I didn’t have to feel guilty about day drinking,” Hope said, giving Grace a high five. Then she turned her attention to Joy. “What’s up, sweetie? Is everything okay with the kids?”
Joy nodded and took a gulp of her coffee. “Kids are fine. Hunter is going to lose his shit on his dad when he finds out, but they’ll survive.”
“Did he have an affair?” Grace asked tentatively.
“No. I don’t think so. In fact, I’m pretty sure the man has forgotten how to use his dick.”
Hope couldn’t help it; she let out a startled bark of laughter. “Surely that’s not something someone just forgets, is it?”
“Paul seems to have mastered it.” Joy’s tone was bitter and full of finality.
“Are you sure he doesn’t need some help in the form of a little blue pill?” Grace asked.
They’d had the erectile dysfunction discussion before, and Joy insisted that wasn’t the issue.
“Oh, no. It works. I’ve seen the evidence every morning for as long as I can remember. Except instead of letting me help him with it, he prefers to jerk it in the shower. He’s always said he’s not able to deal with anything until his morning coffee. Can you believe that? What man doesn’t want a freakin’ blow job first thing in the morning?”
Hope cringed. She’d known Joy and Paul had been having trouble in the bedroom for a while now, but she supposed she hadn’t realized just how bad it had gotten.
“Okay, so you’ve finally had enough?” Grace asked. “Did you throw him out?”
Joy scoffed. “Who me? Throw him out over sex? No. Just two nights ago we had the big sex talk. You know, the one about how we need to find a way to connect. That we have to try. That he has to try. That I can’t be the only one who cares about reviving our sex life. I thought it went pretty well. We’d scheduled a date for last night, just the two of us. No pressure. Just a night to shower together. Maybe a massage. Some cuddling. And then we’d see where things went. But do you know what I got instead?”
Hope was almost afraid to ask. “Don’t tell me he got you a dildo.”
A look of pure irritation flashed through Joy’s bloodshot eyes. “You know, I think I would’ve appreciated that gesture. At least it would’ve communicated that he cared about my needs. But no. I didn’t even get that much. Instead, he told me I was demanding too much. That I was oversexed, unreasonable, and that he was just done.”
“Done? What does that mean?” Hope asked, wanting to jump up from the table and run down to Paul’s accounting firm so she could bitch-slap him for the way he’d treated Joy. She deserved the world, and the fact that the man hadn’t even come close to giving it to her just pissed Hope right off.
“He’s moving out. Says he wants a trial separation, and he’s already rented a small beach house on the other side of town. Which means he’s known about this for at least a week, even before our big talk. Even though he thinks I don’t pay attention to the finances, I noticed a four-figure withdrawal. I didn’t ask him about it because I thought maybe he was trying to surprise me with a gift. You know, jewelry or a trip or something. The man just doesn’t spend money unless it’s on something special. Now I know it was first, last, and a deposit on a house. There’s no surprise coming other than the fact that I don’t have to listen to his snoring for the time being.”
“He wants a trial separation, but he went ahead and signed a lease? For how long?” Grace asked.
“He said the lease was for six months.” Joy grabbed her coffee and took another long gulp. “But that’s a lie. I called and found out the lease is for a year. Paul is done. Grace, I think I need the number of your divorce lawyer.”
“Sure, honey.” Grace draped an arm around her friend and gave Hope a what-the-hell look.