Page 15 of The Book of Summer

At the time, Cissy was due back from a walk. Or else she wasn’t. Cissy was known to stroll for hours.

“Stop,” Brandon said as he entered the kitchen. “Stop. Just calm down.”

He pried a wooden spoon from Bess’s grasp. Also a cheese grater, though there wasn’t any cheese nearby.

“Go read a book,” he ordered.

“I have to finish dinner!”

“I’ll take it from here. You relax.”

So Bess let him complete what she’d started.

The dinner was okay, nothing fantastic. But it was more than edible, a better feat than Bess could’ve pulled off. And that Brandon stepped in rendered the meal perfect, in the end.

You seemed to really love each other.

“Yes, it seemed that way,” Bess says now, in the dining room of Cliff House.

She rips a piece of tape from its roll.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Cissy asks. “Absolutely certain that you want to go through with it?”

“Yes. One hundred percent,” Bess says, and means it. “I know what you’re thinking. The first divorce in the family, the black sheep, et cetera. But there’s simply no other option. I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re disappointed. And believe me, I am, too.”

“Disappointed? Please. I couldn’t be prouder of my Bessie if you cured cancer.”

“Well, I hope you’d be alittleprouder of me if I cured cancer.”

“Professional accomplishments,” Cissy says, and blubbers her lips. “Who gives a crap? And, by the by, if you thinkyou’rethe black sheep, you’re not paying attention.”

“Either way, there’s no going back.”

No going back. Bess’s side twitches. She tries to rub it away.

“Okay, my dear,” Cissy says. “I hear you. But I do think it’s better to talk things through with someone who loves you.”

“Thanks but I’ll pass.”

“I still don’t…” Cissy shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand why you’re getting divorced. Is there a specific reason?”

Bess hesitates. Yes, she has a reason or twelve. Most of them she can’t mention to her mom.

“At its simplest,” Bess says finally, “he’s not the person I thought I married.”

Then again, maybe he is and Bess should’ve seen it coming. There were signs. She couldn’t say there weren’t signs, emergency meal preparations notwithstanding.

“Not who you married?” Cissy answers with a small grunt. “They never are. Your grandmother could’ve told you that. But just because…”

“Mom.” Bess gently smacks the table. “I’m serious. I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll only get upset or angry and I’m so tired of feeling both of these things. One day I’ll tell you the full story.”

“Fine.” Cissy scoots around the table to give Bess a hug. “And since you called me ‘Mom,’ I suppose you mean business.”

“Oh yeah, I mean business. Big business.”

“All right, Big Business,” Cissy says, checking her watch. “I’m off for a jog. I’d ask you to join me but…”

She shrugs. Although Bess is a decent golfer and a crack tennis player, the family knows she never exercises in vain. Or, as Lala likes to tease, Bess doesn’t want to sweat if no one’s keeping score.

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