Chapter 27R
ed-eyed but calm, Connie stands at the sink de-veining shrimp. A platter of sliced tomatoes and cucumbers, halved hard-boiled eggs, and black olives sits on the counter. “I made a light supper, after last night . . . ”
“It was supposed to be fun.”
“I know, Reet. It’s me. Post-partum, I guess. As long as my mother has Gabrielle anyway, I think I’ll wean her.” She opens a jar of cocktail sauce and pours it into a small bowl. “Does that make me a terrible mother?”
“I get jealous every time I watch you nurse. Does that make me a terrible friend?”
Connie looks up from her work. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Rita tells Connie about her realizations today, apologizing for talking her into going out last night.
Connie smiles. “You are hard to say ‘no’ to.”
“That said, I know I’m p
