So the truth was she didn’t want to get married until her father was behind bars so that there was no way he could walk her down the aisle, no way he could be in her wedding albums. When he was in prison, she would write to him maybe once a month, but that was it. He wasn’t dead to her, she just didn’t want him to be part of her life.

Bernice wrinkled the edges of the newspaper in disgust. Thad Dunkirk, who had no classes that day, thus had spent the night at Bernice’s condo in Scardale, looked up, his eyes wide behind rather thick glasses. “Did you see this article?” she asked him.

Exhausted, Riley was very much looking forward to this coming weekend. Who gets married on a Wednesday, anyway? Only Eden. Her little sister.

Using his fob, he opened the outside door to the apartment complex and then the door to his apartment, calling out hopefully, “Eden?” Except it wasn’t Eden who stepped out of his bedroom, the immaculate one with no mess scattered around. Surprised, he looked around. This was his apartment. Wasn’t it?

“Look, Mom. Don’t worry about Dimitri. He’ll come back to Europe and find me here. I dated him for a while, and he didn’t take our breakup very well. You know how possessive these Russian men can be. I’m so sorry he bothered you. If he comes by again, call the cops.”

While Frank was at work in Hartford, she had time on her hands. Oh, her boring remote work in medical billing continued. But it was a drag on her psyche. She spent way too much time reading the ads, the real estate ads because she knew what she wanted to do in life. Renovate!

She had no idea who started the singing and the beer mugs slamming on the table, but they were all at it, swilling it down and vocalizing madly. No wonder people liked being professors if this is what all conferences were like.

Riley felt like a conspirator. She and Mike were going over various scenarios on how to bring up the topic of his birth with other family members. Donal’s daughter was having a confirmation party, but Mike’s revelation would really kill the moment.

Eden was already seated when they arrived at the restaurant.  But Sandy noted she rose as they approached and came around to give Sandy a short hug and one for Marty too.  “So glad to see you again,” Eden gushed, Steve thought with a bit too much enthusiasm.

“What have I done!” Eden was roaming the sterile abyss that was Steve’s apartment. She had heard from Riley that their mother—their mother in her sixties!—was taking off for Europe with a strange man that she hardly knew.

First Eden and now Frank. Betrayal. Where was the asp Bernice could clasp to her bosom to remove her from the misery of this world?

Eden felt very proud of herself. She had dealt with the Lily situation with outstanding finesse.

She was so lonely in Sandy Springs. Oh, people were friendly everywhere, kind and welcoming. But, it wasn’t like having Frank to look forward to on the weekends. All she had in her life was her job—remote—her daily walks, and her evening television.

She hardly saw Oleg. They were in communication via email which used a lot of misdirecting terms in case anyone investigated their business arrangement. “Did you get the perfume I sent you?” Heidi wished he would send perfume, but at least that terminology was more romantic than asking about the case of sardines. If anyone ever checked, they’d wonder what she’d be doing with a case of sardines. But let him have his fun.

It was Sunday, her do nothing day, Riley thought with a great deal of pleasure. Oh, there were things she could be doing, like vacuuming and the dreaded dusting, not to mention a load of clothes. Sometimes she considered hiring a maid, but her townhouse with only her in it, how dirty could it get? Well, she didn’t want to examine that issue too closely.

Okay, so Steve wasn’t Mr. Personality, mostly likely his high school class’s biggest nerd, but she knew him to be warm, with a sly sense of humor. And he was generous. And accommodating. Not many men are accommodating.

“It’s time for me to leave,” Lily said. They were having brunch at Eggs ‘R Us early Sunday morning before the church crowd arrived. This way they got their choice of bagels, which could run out.

A friend of mine recently died. She had Parkinson’s, and her husband said she was in a lot of pain. I knew things were getting bad for her when her emails became less chatty, the last one just two sentences.

Bernice had to admit it. She was distraught. Why did no one understand her feelings?

Riley, having set Eden on the path to glory, had to consider her own fate. Like, what would she do if she were offered a plus one? There was no plus one.