assume any title that even whispered of old age, was Mimi.
“Incoming,” Shelley murmured. Jo heard the front door open and close, then Matt’s booming bass voice, welcoming his mother.
“Incoming!” Flora repeated. “Incoming! What is incoming?”
“Oh, it’s just a way of saying, Look who’s here!” Jo gave Shelley a stern look, then smiled as Sandra swept into the room. Ropes of seed pearls wrapped around her neck, disguising any droop, and a massive diamond glittered on her left hand. Her slim-cut navy pantsuit was immaculate, and her high-heeled shoes clicked against the tiled floors as she approached her granddaughter, arms extended, smiling as widely as the injectable fillers allowed. She reminded Jo of Shelley’s mother, who still looked forty from a distance and older the closer you got.
“Flora, kiss your Mimi,” she ordered, bending down to greet the little girl. “No, not too hard, you don’t want to smear Mimi’s makeup. HelloJoShelleyhowareyou? Flora, do you want to see the present Mimi brought you?” Sandra extended her hand, Flora took it, and Jo and Shelley exchanged a look. Most of the people they knew were welcoming or, at least, tolerant of the two of them as a couple. Sandra Grissom was the exception. She acted as if Jo and Shelley disgusted her, and she made no attempt to disguise her disdain. Jo had learned, years after Matt and Kim’s wedding, that Sandra told her son that if the plan was for Shelley to walk Kim down the aisle, or play any kind of role in the ceremony, she, Sandra, would consider it a travesty and would stay home. Jo had decided that Sandra was a monster, and Sandra had never given her a reason to change her mind.
Jo waited until the caterers were occupied before sliding her Jell-O mold into the refrigerator and washing her hands at the kitchen sink. “Kim, what can I do?”
“I think we’re all set.” Kim pulled a BlackBerry out of her pocket and scrolled through what was undoubtedly one of her checklists. “The turkey’s coming out of the oven in an hour, the wine’s chilling, the side dishes are heating up.”
“Can I bring anything to the table? Light the candles?” As soon as Jo had asked the questions, two caterers bustled by, one carrying a cut-glass bowl of cranberry relish, the other holding a long electric lighter.
“How about the baby?” Kim said. Smiling, Jo stretched out her arms and accepted the sleepy, warm weight of her granddaughter. Leonie’s such an easy baby, Kim had told her, with her voice full of wonder. She actually nurses, Kim had said. No nipple shields! No bad latch! It’s nothing like it was with Flora.
“Lucky you,” Jo had said. When Flora had been born, Jo had offered to stay and help for as long as Kim needed her. As a substitute teacher, Jo had a flexible schedule, and she’d invested the money she’d won from Dave with care, waiting for the day that she became a grandmother. Her plan had always been to take a few months off and help when her daughters had babies. She’d nursed all three of them, even before nursing was fashionable, so she could have helped Kim figure out how to do it, even though Jo didn’t remember breastfeeding as being especially tricky or difficult. Girls today, Judy Pressman had told her. They act like they’re the first ones to have done any of this. They’ve got to reinvent the wheel, and make everything ten times harder than it has to be.
Kim and Matt had still been living in Manhattan when Flora was born, but their apartment had a guest room, with its own bathroom attached. Jo had offered to come and stay, or even rent her own place. I can be there as much or as little as you need me, she’d said. I’ll do whatever needs doing. She’d made her offer in the hospital, the day Flora was born, and Kim, who’d had a C-section and still had an IV poked into the back of her hand, had eagerly agreed, until Matt had crossed the hospital room to stand behind his wife, giving her shoulders a squeeze.
“We’ve got that baby nurse, remember?” he said. “And the lactation consultant.”
Lactation consultant? Jo thought, and made a mental note to ask Judy what on earth that was.
“Right,” Kim had said, “but that’s just for, what, a week or two?”
Jo had watched Matt’s hands tighten on Kim’s shoulders. “We can keep her as long as you need her,”