“I told them, too. They’re going to be my kids. My kids.”

“I love Addie and Flick, too,” Will said. “We get along great. Listen, you’re making this more complicated than it is.” He moved the covers aside and hovered over her. His lips, his hair falling forward, his muscular frame impossible to resist. “I’m all in.”

As Caroline drove with Virginia to the weekly meeting of the Sewing Circle, it was hard not babbling on and on about Will. Despite her trepidation, their love affair burned like a wind-driven forest fire, dangerous and impossible to curb. The sex turned her into a blithering idiot, but sometimes, sex was the smallest part of her passion. Sometimes, lying with him on the dock, looking up at the stars, and talking endlessly about life and dreams and fears and plans was everything she desired.

Their years-long friendship was no longer a friendship. It had exploded, then melded into a different shape entirely.

She wanted to say something. She wanted to shout it to the world. She couldn’t, though. Not yet. Maybe not ever. “Are we going to have a crowd tonight?” she asked, noting the nearly full parking lot.

“Looks that way.” Virginia parked and they got out. “Ready?”

Caroline nodded.

She went inside and was nearly blown back against the wall by a loud “Surprise!”

What the hell? The room was decked with pink and blue garlands and balloons. On the snack table was a large sheet cake, and overhead was a banner that read Congratulations! It’s a boy! And a girl! Pictures of Addie and Flick were stuck to the rolling whiteboard, which was covered with scrawled messages, hearts, and flowers.

“You guys,” Caroline said, falling against Virginia. “A baby shower?”

“A kid shower,” Georgia said, greeting her with a hug. “It’s never too late to celebrate having kids.”

Her mom was there with chilled champagne. “Don’t worry, the children are with your father. I wanted to be here. I hope you don’t mind that I told everyone that the family court approved your adoption petition.”

“It’s provisional,” Caroline pointed out. There had been extensive pre-adoption studies and home visits. She would be subjected to a placement period and post-adoption follow-ups as well.

“The waiting period is standard,” Virginia said. “Face it, Caroline. You’re committed. And we have the cake to prove it.”

Caroline nearly came undone. “I need a tissue,” she said. “And a piece of that damn cake.”

Her sisters brought her to a chair in the circle and served the cake. It was one of Georgia’s most requested—organic lemon with lemon cream icing, decadent and delicious. It tasted like happiness. It tasted like love. “You got me,” Caroline said, savoring the first bite. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“We couldn’t let you miss out on a shower,” Echo said, cutting and serving the cake on pink and blue paper plates.

“We’re really happy for you, Caroline,” Ilsa said. “How does it feel, being a mom?”

“Different,” she said. “I’m not sure why. The adoption is really just a formality. It feels different, though. It’s hard to explain.”

“Not really,” Georgia said. “I can explain it.”

Of course she could. Georgia was a know-it-all. “Yeah?”

“You’re a mom.”

The reality of it took her breath away. Georgia was right. Caroline had a son. A daughter. She had been transformed, not by a court document, but by two incredible little human beings who had come into her life uninvited and set up permanent residence in her heart.

“Yes, that’s it,” she said after a long pause. “I’m a mom.”

Chapter 27

Sierra reveled in finally having a job that didn’t depend on her looking like an emaciated seventeen-year-old. She was on the road more often than not, going from shoot to shoot, in charge of a crew that didn’t dare tell her to “sweeten up the lips” or “relax your forehead—you’re turning into your mother.” Or “give me your most fuckable look.”

She didn’t miss that at all.

She didn’t miss her old life.

She didn’t miss her marriage.

She did miss Will, though. Her perfect, perfect husband, whose heart she had trampled on, whose dreams she had shattered.

People said she should be grateful and proud that the two of them had managed to uncouple without undue drama. Without leaving scorched earth in their wake. She didn’t feel grateful, though. Or proud. She just felt . . . empty.

But in a good way. In a way that made her feel untethered, open to any possibility.

The current possibility involved sitting on a deck overlooking a ridiculously scenic beach while sipping a cosmo and reading Cosmo. The shoot had been a whirlwind, and at last, it was quitting time. She tasted the lovely, sugary drink, which would have been kryptonite to her back in her days in front of the camera. And then she pictured the models in their shared rooms, chugging Diet Dr Pepper and smoking cigarettes, studying their pores and wrinkles in mercilessly magnifying mirrors.

No, she didn’t miss that.

She paged past the requisite “How to Make Him Make Out with You” article. Instructions not necessary. For the first time since high school, she was available, and guys were eager. She’d discovered that she was good at dating, good at having fun with no complications.

Her phone chimed with a notification, and she glanced at it in annoyance. After rushing around all day, she just wanted some downtime. Then she saw a picture pop up. Caroline would like to FaceTime.

Fine, Caroline she could handle. Sierra swiped up. “Hey, stranger.”

“Sierra, hi.” Caroline’s face appeared. Behind her was a familiar sandy expanse, the waves crawling in at low tide.

“This is a beach-to-beach call.” Sierra panned her phone so Caroline could see.

“That’s gorgeous. Where are you?”

“Descanso Beach on Catalina Island. Having a my-job-does-not-suck moment.”

“I’m glad, Sierra. Your posts on Instagram look so good. I’m happy for you.” Caroline paused. Her face in the phone screen did not exactly look happy.

“Everything all right? I’ve been following the photo stream for C-Shell and saw your news about getting a pop-up with Eau Sauvage. Way to go, Caroline. That company made a smart move.”

“Thanks. I hope it works out. So . . . yeah.”

Sierra took a sip of her cocktail and cast about for something to say. Since she’d been gone, their friendship had begun to fade back to the occasional thumbs-up on social media or a quick comment on a post. It just wasn’t the same as a genuine, face-to-face friendship. Sometimes Sierra thought that might have been an early sign of her breakup with Will. When he was in the navy, he was gone for months and months, and the unavoidable separation had been the start of the long, slow drifting apart.

She considered asking about the kids, but to her secret shame, she didn’t actually care that much.

“How are the girls in the Sewing Circle?” she asked.

“Oh! Mostly good.” Caroline gave her a quick rundown on a few of the women from the group—uplifting successes, disheartening backslides. Sierra hated to hear that a woman would go back into her abusive relationship or take up a new one, but it happened.