And there she was, still beautiful—she’d always been beautiful—but with a powdery finish to her beauty now, something both artificial and dull. A lifetime of bad habits had finally caught up.

“My girl!” Jamie pushed forward, wrapping her daughter in a quick one-armed hug before stepping back and shoving a set of bath bombs in Jess’s hands. They’d started to disintegrate inside the cellophane, and the brightly colored dust leaked out onto Jess’s fingers. She knew her mother well enough to guess Jamie had bought them as an afterthought while grabbing a pack of menthol lights at the convenience store down the street.

Jamie stepped around her and into the dark living room.

“Hey,” Jess said, closing the door. “What’s the occasion?”

Her mother set her giant purse on the coffee table and looked at her, wounded. Her lipstick slowly bled up into the tiny lines around her mouth. “I can’t see my baby on her twenty-eighth birthday?”

Jess didn’t point out that Jamie was off by two years, or the many other birthdays she’d missed. Frankly Jess was surprised her mom remembered her birth date at all; her sporadic visits weren’t generally timed to life events.

“Of course you can,” Jess said. “Do you want to sit down? Can I get you something?”

“No, no. I’m fine.” Jamie walked into the kitchen, tapping her acrylic nails along the counter, and then glanced down the hall. “Juno, honey? Where’s my beautiful grandbaby?”

“She’s in bed, Mom.” Jess shushed her. “It’s late, and she has school tomorrow.”

Jamie threw her an annoyed look. “Kids should go to sleep when they’re tired. All these rules just make them anxious and depressed. That’s why we have so many of them on medication these days.” She scanned Juno’s spelling test on the refrigerator, the birthday card she’d made for Jess, a grocery list. “People need to listen to their bodies. If you’re tired, sleep. If you’re hungry, eat something. Parents need to stop scheduling these kids to death.”

Carefully, Jess set the bath bombs on the counter. “I take an antidepressant every day,” she said with careful calm. “Guess that no-schedule theory isn’t a sure thing.”

Jamie ignored this to continue her perusal of the apartment, casually glancing at the spines of library books on the table, flipping through a few pages on one of Juno’s about horses. Thanksgiving was the last time Jess had seen her mother. Jess had transferred five hundred dollars into Jamie’s checking and hadn’t heard a word since. Jamie had been living in Santa Ana then. They’d met at a Denny’s—Jess paid—and Jamie lamented how her utilities had been shut off because the bank made an error. They’d taken the automatic withdrawal early, she’d insisted. Those fees had made other payments bounce, and it snowballed from there. But it hadn’t been her fault. It was never her fault.

“So, how are you?” Jess asked now, stifling a yawn as she sat on the couch. “How’s … John?”

As soon as the name was out, Jess winced. She thought his name was John. Might have been Jim.

“Oh,” Jamie said with a You are not going to believe this lean to the single word. “Yeah, he was married.”

Jess’s surprise was genuine. “Wait, really? How did you find out?”

“His wife called me.” Jamie tapped out a cigarette before remembering she couldn’t smoke in the apartment, and sort of toyed with it like that had been her intent all along. “Honestly I should have known. He had a job, good credit, and a prescription for Viagra. Of course he was married.”

Jess snorted out a laugh. “Are those the criteria these days?”

“Oh, honey. Don’t let the age of men with good circulation pass you by. Trust me.” She sat on the edge of the coffee table across from her daughter, resting a hand on Jess’s leg, and the whiff of genuine camaraderie made Jess’s heart lean forward. “How are you?” Jamie asked. “How’s your writer friend? She is so funny.”

“I’m fine. You know, working. And Fizzy,” Jess said with a small laugh. “Fizzy is always fine.”

“Are you dating anyone?”

Uninvited, River’s voice rammed into Jess’s mind.

And the timing couldn’t be better for launch.

“Definitely not dating.”

Jamie’s disappointment was palpable. “Are you just going to be single forever? I haven’t met a boyfriend of yours since Juno’s daddy. It’s your birthday. You should be out!”

“It’s a school night, and Juno is asleep down the hall.”

Jamie pointed like Jess might be catching on. “So she wouldn’t even know you were gone.”

Jess’s heart settled back into its familiar cramp, and she said with patient finality: “I don’t want to go out, Mom.”

Holding her hands up in defensive surrender, Jamie groaned out, “Fine, fine.”

Jess yawned again. “Listen, it’s l—”

“Did I tell you about my new gig?”

Her abruptly bright tone set off warning bells. “Your new what?”

“My new job.” Jamie sat up. “Okay … don’t say anything to your grandparents, because you know they’re old-fashioned and never understand how exciting these opportunities are, but you are looking at Skin Glow Incorporated’s newest team member.”

Jess searched her brain but no recognition flared. “Who are they?”

“You’re kidding.” Jamie shook her head in disbelief. “Their commercials are everywhere, Jess. They do in-home facials. God, I want to say it’s a good company, but it’s more than that, it’s a whole lifestyle. A way of empowering women. I get a cut of every facial I do and—”

Jess couldn’t keep the edge from her voice. “A cut?”

“Well, yeah—I mean, to start. Eventually I’ll have girls working for me and I’ll make some of everything they make, and the people they bring on board.”

“So, like a pyramid scheme.”

“Like an entrepreneur.” Jamie’s words were sharp with offense. “I am capable of more than waiting tables, you know.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well, this is a really rare opportunity. Maureen said the lady who got her into it is already making six figures! And it’s only three hundred dollars to start.”