“Yes. The holiday makes me think of both of them, Mom and Dad.” In the days when Maeve was healthy, Thanksgivings were epic affairs with family, friends, and grad students showing up with potluck items and touch-football aspirations. There was lots of wine, of course. After dinner, there was a talent show with everything from terrible magic to poetry recitals. It took all weekend to clean up the mess.

“Me, too.” Maggie watched Liza move around the kitchen, the dated maple cabinets and brown countertops newly turned to white-on-white in what Liza referred to as “a touch-up, not a renovation.” She pulled the serving dishes out and lined them up, ready to be filled with whatever side dishes arrived. Maggie would have waited until five minutes before dinner to organize serving platters, but not Liza. She needed to start paying more attention to the kinds of small details that Liza paid attention to. “So, guess what? I’m pregnant.”

“Victory!” Tricia came into the kitchen with her arms raised. Raj followed behind humming the Olympic fanfare. He was proud of his girl. “First place, Women Thirty to Thirty-eight. After a five-year drought, I’m back on top. It’s good to be the youngest in a whole new age group.”

“Is that the real reason you moved back here? To win the Turkey Trot?”

Maggie asked.

“One hundred percent. Who needs to be a partner in a big New York law firm? I am a three-time Turkey Trot champion.”

“I can confirm that she has been secretly training. I think my excellent pacesetting made a difference, at least for the first five hundred feet until she dropped me.” Raj let the cat out of the bag and Tricia pretended to be mad. So far, the closest Tricia and Raj had come to a genuine row was a disagreement over the finest Dr. Who. They seemed to be in a couple bubble that disharmony couldn’t penetrate.

Maybe it was because Tricia looked and felt like a different person than six months ago when she took the phone call from Liza in the stairwell of her office in Manhattan. After Labor Day, Tricia had gone back to Kingsley, Maxwell & Traub for two weeks and felt the joy drain out of her body, hour by hour. She was snapping at strangers, short with her sisters on the phone and her summer tan faded back into a color that could only be described as Midtown Mud. The moment Cap offered her the opportunity to replace him at Richardson & Blix, now Richardson, Sweeney & Blix, Tricia knew it was the right move. The money would be less and the high-profile clients would be fewer, although Cap had a few surprising boldface names amongst his clientele. It was the pace and the location that lured her back to Southport. She was unwilling to live a life in Manhattan without regular sailing, running, and, of course, Raj. She never would have guessed she’d be so satisfied at a small firm in her hometown, doing everything from wills and trusts to real estate law. The boathouse was the icing on the cake.

When Tricia took in the scene, two sisters at the kitchen table, it was clear something deep was happening. “Raj, do you want to see if Tim needs any help?”

“Ah, yes. My cue. See you anon,” Raj said formally as he made a slight bow and exited through the new French doors Liza had added to the kitchen, to “open it up a bit.” The view of the backyard to the water did, indeed, open up the space.

“What’s up?”

As soon as Raj was out of earshot, Maggie announced, “I’m having a baby. With Tim.”

“That’s so great. I’m so happy for you both.” Tricia gave Maggie a deep hug, then retracted. “Are you happy for you both?”

“Yes. Absolutely. It was planned! I planned this.”

“Really?” Tricia had to ask because, as usual, Maggie’s timing was backward.

“Yes, we did. After spending the summer here, I realized that it was time to create my own family. I liked being part of all this again. I’d been away for so long, I’d forgotten how special this could be. Being here when the twins came home from camp, fixing up the house for Liza. I liked being part of that and so did Tim. We’re nervous, but we’re happy, very happy.”

August had been like family camp on Willow Lane. Once it was a done deal that Liza would be moving back to their childhood home, fix-up began.

Tim was employed as a handyman/house painter/grill master working on small tasks like replacing the doors that had been stuck for twenty years and making various tacos a few nights a week for dinner. Maggie painted canvases and walls, both under Liza’s encouragement. Tricia, still on sabbatical from her real job, went full press on finding a home for Snap in Hollywood and impressing Leo when he insisted on coming to see them, instead of vice versa, because he wanted to see where William Sweeney wrote. Serena came over most afternoons, after writing all day, to swim and have dinner. Lolly had taken to dropping by a few mornings a week to walk the dogs with Liza or play Scrabble with her grandchildren at the kitchen table.

The twins spent long days at the house, Liza having given up entirely on micromanaging their summer schedules. There were no mandatory tennis tournaments or math-refresher classes. They sailed with Tricia and did their summer reading with Serena, who downloaded audio versions of the books, much to the twins’ delight. The three of them would listen as they played on the beach. Fitz hung out with Tim, learning to hammer a nail, use a level, and rewire a lamp. Vivi spent hours in the studio with Maggie, working on a collection of macramé plant holders that had a surprisingly sophisticated vibe. “I’m going to take a few of these for the gallery and we’ll see how they sell,” Liza said, alluding to her new interest in housewares. It had renewed the sisters’ faith in family, maybe Maggie most of all.

Liza and Tricia did their job as sisters and asked all the right questions about her health (“No nausea, but tired and craving red meat”), how far along (nine weeks), and the sex of the baby (“Tim doesn’t want to find out.

He said it’s like watching the last ten minutes of the movie first. I’m okay

with that.”). Then, Tricia asked, because she had to, “And can you still take your antidepressant safely?”

“Yes, and I will. I have a good therapist in Mill River and I’m eating well and not drinking. I’m back to yoga, which has been an important piece of my wellness plan. I feel good, all the way around. I want to be a good mother.”

“You will be.”

“Is Tim ready to be a father? He’s young.”

“He turned twenty-seven. Not that young. And he’s from a big family with lots of nieces and nephews. He’s ready.” Maggie knew her sisters wanted some sort of explanation or assurance that Tim and the baby were all for the best. In the past, she might have dug in and defended her actions instead of explaining them. But the past year had changed Maggie. “Tim’s very kind to me. He works with his hands. He’s very physical. He takes care of what needs to be taken care of. I’ve spent my life with men who have complicated internal lives and no follow-through. That’s not Tim. Not that he’s not smart, but he’s not wrapped up in analyzing everything all the time.

It’s a relief. It means I don’t second-guess myself all the time.”

“And his mother? Is she on board?” Liza asked because she understood the importance of getting the mother-in-law on the right side.

“Nancy Yablonski wants us to get married before the baby, which we’re not so sure about. And she thinks I’m only thirty. But other than that, I’m pretty sure she likes me. She told me my artwork was ‘very colorful.’” Air quotes employed.

“You know when Dad’s book comes out, your true age will be revealed, right?”

“She has no idea who Dad is. She loves a Nora Roberts book and that’s all right with me.”

“Are you going to get married before the baby is born?” Liza had to ask, her mind racing ahead to how beautiful a small Christmas wedding could be at Willow Lane, a good distraction for her as the kids would be skiing in Vermont with their father.

“I’m not so sure. If we do, it will be a city hall quickie. Any party will be after the brewpub is open and the baby is born. Tim wants to have a big blowout there. Maybe over Fourth of July.”

“That’s one way to top last year’s debacle.”

“Make sure to invite Nina and Devon. Because they weren’t traumatized enough by the big Serena reveal, followed by Cap’s legal threats,” Tricia said, thinking of the quiet academic couple who could barely look her in the eye when she ran into them in New Haven with Raj.

“Maybe we’ll spare Nina and Devon, but we’re definitely inviting Connor and David so they can pay for lobster.”

“I’m happy for you,” Tricia said without an ounce of jealousy and only slight concern, relieved that Maggie had used the buyout money from Willow Lane to put in an offer on a small house with a studio in Mill River.

The deal would close after the first of the year. It needed work, but it was hers. Stability was the key for Maggie. And it would be for the baby.

“Me, too,” Liza echoed, glad that Maggie would be on this side of the country as a new mother, so she could keep an eye on her and be the best auntie for the baby.

“Thank you. It’s about time Vivi and Fitz have a cousin. You can get in the game,” Maggie said, looking at Tricia. “We could be pregnant together.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you. You’d hate sharing a baby shower.”