“That’s true.”

“If I can’t give you a wedding, please let me give you a shower.”

“Free gifts! Yes, I’ll take one of those. Can we do it before I get huge? I mean, look at these things,” Maggie said, pointing to her breasts. “If they are a harbinger of things to come, I may be in trouble.”

“You look fantastic,” Liza said, adding, “but my advice is to stay active and don’t eat for two, eat for one and a half.” It was the same piece of advice that Liza had given a dozen friends over the years when they asked her how she got back into shape so quickly after the twins. She thought it was a diplomatic way of saying, Don’t stuff your face for nine months.

In the lull before the party prep whipped into high gear, the three sisters sat around the kitchen table. Liza was peeling potatoes, Maggie was flipping through Traditional Home, and Tricia was reading the New York Times. Tricia looked up from the paper. “Is everybody ready for Tuesday?

Should we talk about that now or wait for Serena?”

“Let’s wait for Serena.” Liza stood up to toss the potatoes in the boiling water. She basted the backup turkey in the oven because she didn’t trust the grilling method completely. She was willing to give in to the curried cauliflower that Raj was bringing and the vegan stuffing that Vivi insisted upon, but she wasn’t fooling around with the bird. “She texted me this

morning when she left DC. She’s picking her parents up at LaGuardia at two. They should be here by three.”

“You know what? You’re totally right,” Maggie said, referring to Liza’s earlier comment. “This is going to be really weird. Now I’m sorry I can’t drink.”

“Maggie and Tim are having a baby.” Tricia stepped out of the shower as Raj stepped in. The boathouse bathroom left something to be desired in terms of size, but the water pressure was magnificent.

“Does Tim know?”

Tricia laughed. “Of course.”

“Well, he only seems to care about his hops-to-wheat ratio and the new hard cider they pressed last week.” Raj and Tim had formed a bond over the last few months that centered on beverages and a mutual love of the Bourne films. It seemed to be enough to sustain conversation for hours.

“I think he’ll be a great dad.”

“Yes. He will. And your sister will be fine, don’t worry.” Tricia didn’t answer, so Raj asked, “Did you ever tell your sisters about your miscarriage?”

“No. I never found an opening that felt right this summer. And now, it’s past time. I don’t want to jinx Maggie. I’m okay.”

“You’re a champion. Remember that.”

“Do you think your mother will like me?” Tricia blurted out, worried about their Christmas visit, her first time to meet the Chaudhrys. “Even though I’m not Indian?”

“Where did this come from?”

“Liza was talking about her mother-in-law and Maggie mentioned Tim’s mother. It got me thinking about your mother.”

“She will love you, even though you’re not Indian. You did go to Yale and Yale Law. That will go a long way with her.”

Tricia leaned into the streaming water and kissed Raj. “I’d like to have a baby someday.”

“So would I. With you.”

Liza snapped a photo of the table and typed a message to Gray: Next year, place for you? Then second-guessed herself, erased the message, and texted

instead, Happy Thanksgiving. See you Saturday night.

She was in no rush.

Maggie found Tim outside, stoking the charcoal, getting ready to put the twenty-pound spatchcocked turkey on the grill. Vivi and Fitz were bouncing on the new trampoline, their interest in grilling exhausted. Maggie pulled her purple cashmere wrap tighter around her shoulders. The temperature was dropping. It might snow like the news predicted. Maggie thought that she and Tim could stay at Willow Lane if they needed to. She had packed an extra bag for both of them just in case.

Tim drew Maggie toward him with his barbecue tongs and kissed her.

“How’d it go?”

“I don’t know why I was so worried. They couldn’t have been more supportive,” Maggie admitted. She’d expected Liza and Tricia to lecture, to go heavy on the reprisals and light on the acceptance. But they seemed to genuinely believe that Maggie could pull off motherhood. “I’m so relieved.”

“I think it’s me. I’m the glue holding this whole operation together.” Tim used his tongs as a scepter, pointing to the house, the grill, Maggie’s belly, which hadn’t quite popped yet but would any day. He wrapped his arms around her. “Just think, next year at this time, little Sweeney Yablonski is going to be about the same size as this turkey.”

Chapter 26

Team Sweeney was assembled and ready to go by half past two. Liza, Maggie, and Tricia were dressed in what Liza called “casual harvest chic”

and fortified for battle, thanks to several helpings of the classic paté that Cap and Anders always brought to winter season gatherings at Willow Lane. Anders volunteered to do the wine service throughout the day, a job Liza normally assigned to Whit. Cap was ready to play peacemaker and buffer between guests should any tensions break out. Tim was on turkey duty and maintaining the fire in the living room. Raj was tasked with carving the backup turkey and providing entertaining bits of academic and literary trivia. Vivi and Fitz, briefed on the situation, which made them feel very grown-up, were prepared to read their “What I’m Thankful For”

essays if conversation dried up.

“We’re all going to be fine,” Tricia told everyone for the tenth time that day as Serena’s Range Rover pulled into the driveway. “We’re all going to be fine.”

Liza opened the front door and welcomed the Tucker family with her patented graciousness. “We’re so glad you’re here to celebrate with us.

Please come in.”

Mitch and Birdie Tucker were first through the door. Mitch looked exactly the same as he had in 1993, in a stiff blazer and with thinning hair, holding a bottle of French wine. Birdie was overdressed in a tweed suit and high heels, carrying a cheese plate with Brie and Bremner wafers as a hostess gift. After spotting the Brie, Maggie and Tricia struggled not to

make eye contact with each other. Serena followed her parents into the front hall, after she paused to give Liza a hug. “Here we are. And I brought my assigned decaf coffee!”

Liza took the Shaw’s bag from Serena, then whispered in her ear, “If this starts to go south, don’t worry. I have a lot of wine.”

Serena had barely eaten on the drive up, drinking too much caffeine and worrying about this entire plan for most of the six hours on the road: the meeting of the two families; the publication of Serena’s piece, “Elspeth’s Daughter and Her Sisters,” about her personal journey over the last year in Vanity Fair on Monday; the television appearance on CBS This Morning the next day with Liza, Maggie, and Tricia; and the blitz of publicity that would follow, thanks to the publication of Snap on the same day as their television appearance. By Wednesday, Serena Tucker would become Serena Sweeney in the minds of many people and she felt ready for that, thanks to the many hours she’d spent with her sisters over the past few months, and her therapist.

Serena and Tricia had worked out the response over the summer after the memoir had been found, read, and digested. As Tricia suspected, Serena wanted to tell her story to the world, of discovering that she was Not Parent Expected and everything that followed after that moment. Tricia encouraged her to not only write her story, but to tie it to the publication of Snap, so both the article and the book would benefit from the media attention, an idea that Serena would never have had the guts to suggest, though it had crossed her mind as well. Serena’s literary agent had secured the magazine piece in Vanity Fair, as Lucy Winthrop had predicted, and would be fielding any subsequent book or film offers that Serena’s piece might generate. Cap would carry on in his role as managing William Sweeney’s intellectual property and news like this would fire up that market. As these pieces were falling into place, Serena and Tricia told Liza and Maggie about the strategy to present a united front, to support Serena, and, in turn, she would provide an alternative narrative about the sisters to the world, different than the one presented in Snap. It was Serena who had assured Liza, Maggie, and Tricia that she wasn’t out to trash them. “I’ve come to value all of you.”

The sisters agreed to cooperate with a candid portrait of themselves through Serena’s eyes. “Let’s get this out there publicly so we can move forward privately,” Tricia said. Maggie wanted to know if they would be on