She held out her hand. Reggie introduced himself and his wife, then shook her hand. Lark smiled at her, announced, “You’re very pretty, child,” then pulled her close for a warm hug that had Dellina suddenly missing her own mother.

Lark released her. “Sam has told us so much about this weekend party. It sounds as if you’ve been running around, getting everything ready.”

Sam’s parents looked at her with equally welcoming expressions. She felt herself relax in their presence.

“I’m excited about having it all come together,” she said. “We don’t usually get weekends this fancy in town.”

“We’re looking forward to it very much,” Lark said as she linked arms with her husband.

A server appeared with glasses of champagne. A second followed with a tray of appetizers.

“Please,” Dellina said, motioning to the drinks and food. “I’m looking for objective opinions. This is our final chance to tweak the menu. I would very much appreciate your honest thoughts on every part of the meal.”

They toasted to the weekend and then tasted the appetizers. Dellina was careful to have one of everything and take notes.

“I like the presentation,” she said, putting a puff on a plate so it could get cold. One of the challenges of appetizers was that people tended to chat before eating them. Having something that tasted good at room temperature could be difficult.

Reggie looked at her notes. “You’re organized.”

“I have to be.”

“You own your own business?”

She smiled. “Yes. It’s just me. Sometimes I think about expanding but then I’d give up control. Plus there are parts of what I do that I really love. I wouldn’t want to hand them off to someone else.” She paused. “I do think about hiring an office manager, though. I’m not great with balancing my own books.”

“I understand that,” Reggie told her. “When I retired from basketball, I had to figure out what to do with my life. I had a degree I couldn’t use and no experience beyond a great jump shot.”

Lark moved close to her husband and leaned against him. “That’s not true. You had loads of life skills. You just had to find out the best way to use them.”

He nodded. “I went back to college and paid attention in class this time. I got my master’s in business. Went to work for a large company and worked my way up.”

Dellina smiled at Sam. “So you come by your interest in finance honestly.”

“Dad was an influence,” he admitted.

Reggie beamed at his son. “Sam’s very intelligent. A planner, too. He played football, but was looking to the future. I spent a couple of years being lost after the crowds went away.”

“Having Kenny and Jack around helped,” Lark added. “They’re good friends. They took care of one another. The world of professional sports can be difficult. Not just the physical requirements, but the media attention. Now with so much accessibility through the internet, there’s nowhere to hide. But Sam navigated his transition with grace.”

She, like Reggie, sounded like an extremely proud parent. Dellina didn’t understand what Sam was complaining about. From what she’d seen, his family was lovely.

He caught her gaze and shook his head, as if telling her to wait. It was all going to get worse.

“When did you start writing?” she asked Lark as they moved to the table and took their seats.

The other woman frowned delicately. “About fifteen years ago. I’d always been interested in the link between sexuality and marriage. As the children got older, I started to study the subject more rigorously. I ended up starting a women’s support group and we exchanged information. My first book grew from that.”

Dellina waited, but Lark only smiled. Just as she’d thought—the outrageousness had been highly exaggerated. She relaxed in her chair and explained about the menu for dinner.

“We’ll have tasting portions,” she said. “Three different entrees but only a small amount of each. I really do need your honest opinions. We’re going to give our guests options on a limited menu.”

Lark leaned toward Sam. “Was the party your idea?”

“We thought it was a good way to bring our clients together,” he said, his voice a little stiff. “To thank them for all their business.”

“It’s a good way to bond with the town, too,” Lark said. “From what I’ve seen, Fool’s Gold is charming and lovely, but small. You want to stay on everyone’s good side. The party allows you to pump money into the local economy, but in a subtle way.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, then reached for his wine.

Dellina wanted to grab him by the arm and drag him out of the room for a private conversation. She sensed Sam’s tension and was sure his parents felt it, too. And for what? Lark and Reggie were a charming, loving couple. So they touched a lot. Wasn’t that a testament to their happy marriage? In an era where so many couples were getting divorced, their love for each other should be celebrated.

She wondered if his failed marriage with Simone had made him so wary of seeing someone else in love. Taryn had mentioned there had been other failed relationships. Had he grown unnecessarily cynical?

The servers brought out the first course. There were three soups and two salads. Dellina studied each offer, then made a few notes.

Lark tasted the first soup. “Delicious,” she said. “How long have you and Sam been lovers?”

Dellina swallowed and choked. When she could breathe again, she wiped her eyes, then sipped some water.

“Excuse me?” she asked, her voice a croak.

“You and Sam,” Lark said. “You’re sexually involved.”

Dellina’s cheeks burned with heat. “Um, no. We’re working together. That’s all.”

She didn’t dare look at Sam. No doubt he was ready to mouth “I told you so” and she didn’t want to hear it. Or see it.

Lark shook her head. “Then you were sexually intimate at one time. I can sense the connection between you. What caused the problem? I doubt it was Sam’s ability in bed. Although he wouldn’t allow me to instruct him, I know he and his father had many conversations on technique. So many men are lost when it comes to pleasing a woman.”

Dellina sipped more water and decided she was going to let the others decide the best first course.

Lark looked across the table at her son. “Simone called me the other day. She admitted that while she doesn’t regret the marriage ending, she does miss you in bed.” Her expression brightened with pride. “She said it was more than the number of orgasms. It was the intensity of her satisfaction that she misses.”

Reggie nodded knowingly. “That would be difficult to get over. Self-stimulation only gets you so far. A skilled, caring partner adds that indefinable element.”

Dellina wondered if her makeup was enough to hide the intense blush on her cheeks. This wasn’t happening. These perfectly nice middle-aged people were not discussing sex or orgasms at the dinner table. They couldn’t be.

“I talked to her about self-stimulation,” Lark said as she pulled one of the tiny salads closer. “You know that squeezing pressure I like so much?”

“Mom,” Sam said sharply. “That’s enough.”

His mother paused. “Well, all right. My point is Simone misses you in bed.”

* * *

DELLINA COULDN’T REMEMBER a more exhausting dinner. It wasn’t that anything had happened, but that didn’t matter. Now that she’d seen the elder Ridges in action, she didn’t know when the next mind-bending statement was going to drop in the middle of the table. The matter-of-fact delivery almost made it worse, because for a second it seemed as if she must have misunderstood.

After the whole Simone debacle, conversation shifted to more conventional topics, but that didn’t mean Dellina could relax. Being braced for the next shocker required exactly the same energy as enduring it. By the time dessert was brought out, she felt as if she’d run a marathon—at least emotionally. Not that she’d ever done the other kind, either, but that wasn’t the point.

“I’m very interested in the history of the town,” Lark said after tasting the chocolate mousse. “The Máa-zib tribe especially.”

“I know the basics,” Dellina told her. “It’s required for all students to learn about how they traveled up from Central America and settled here.”

“The matriarchal aspect is intriguing,” Sam said. “You’d like that, Mom. Using men for sex, then casting their lovers aside.”

Lark shook her head. “I like having your father around. I would never cast him out.”

Reggie took her hand. “I appreciate that, my dear, and share the sentiment.”

“There’s a museum outside of town,” Dellina told them. “There was an amazing discovery about three years ago. A lot of gold jewelry and small statues.”

“We’ll have to go see it,” Reggie said.

Lark nodded. “And isn’t there supposed to be a statue in town? One by Caterina Stoicasescu? I feel as if I read that somewhere.”

Dellina remembered the scandal of the work when it was first unveiled.

“It’s on loan,” she said. “To a sculpture garden in San Francisco.”

Permanent loan, she thought with a grin. If Mayor Marsha had anything to say about it.

“I know her work,” Sam said. “She uses metal. What was the one she made for the town?”

Dellina winced. “It was a, um...”

“A giant vagina,” Lark told him. “I’ve seen pictures. It was beautiful. Caterina truly understands the importance of sexuality. I’m not saying it defines us, but it’s a significant part of our lives. For women, especially. We teach our children to drive, to cook, to balance a checkbook, but we don’t teach them about sex.”

Dellina glanced at Sam, who was staring at his mother with horror. As if he knew what she was going to say next and could neither stop her nor think of a way to escape.

“What they teach in school isn’t enough,” Reggie said. “Birth control is important but what about the rest of it?”

“The rest?” Dellina asked before she could stop herself. “You mean—”

“Pleasure.” Lark smiled at her husband. “Remember when I taught the girls to masturbate?”

He nodded. “It was a beautiful time.”

Sam flinched.

Lark sighed at the memories. “Reggie took Sam away for the weekend. After all, he was a boy and knowing what to do with himself was more easily understood. But the girls didn’t have the obvious cue of an erection. I told them about their clitoris and described some basic techniques.” Her smile trembled slightly as her eyes filled with tears. “They had the whole weekend to self-explore. I answered their questions.” She sighed. “It was a wonderful memory I’ll treasure always.”

* * *

THE REST OF the meal passed in a blur. Dellina was pretty sure there was coffee and tea and more conversation, but she couldn’t get past the rushing in her ears.

After they’d left the restaurant, Lark and Reggie went out to explore the gardens while Sam walked Dellina to her car. As they crossed the parking lot, she turned to him, then came to a stop.

“I was wrong,” she said, staring up at him. “So wrong. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to say it. Your parents are...”

“Indescribable?” he said, his voice only slightly ironic.

“Yes, that and so much more.” She shuddered. “Your dad talking about spelling out words, letter by letter, while he...” She closed her eyes briefly. “I don’t want to picture your parents doing that.”

Sam’s mouth twitched at the corners. “At least now you know about your G-spot.”

Dellina pressed a hand to her cheek. Lark had brought up the subject and she’d made the mistake of expressing interest. Lark had immediately pulled an old receipt from her handbag and had drawn an embarrassingly detailed diagram. She’d then offered to come home with Dellina and show her where it was and suggest various ways to stimulate it.

“Don’t take this wrong,” she murmured, barely able to look at him. “But I never want your mother in the room when I’m having an orgasm.”

“Then we’re in agreement on that one.”

“I just never thought anyone could be like that,” she admitted. “When Taryn and Larissa were talking, I thought they were messing with me. Making her out to be worse than she was. But they weren’t.”

He drew in a breath. “Welcome to my world.”

“No wonder you don’t want them at a hotel. They’d probably go from room to room, asking guests if they need help sexually.”

“Or worse,” he said glumly.

She didn’t bother to ask what that was. The limit was her imagination. “She’s really sweet. They both are. They love you a lot. They just have an unusual focus.”

“Tell me about it. No thirteen-year-old boy should have to eat breakfast while his mother grills him about his wet dreams.”

She bit her lower lip. “Did she really teach your sisters to...”

“Oh, yeah. Dad took me camping. When I came home both my sisters were locked away experimenting with the wonders of self-stimulation. Then we all talked about it at dinner.”

“That’s just so wrong,” she said, then stopped. “You know, I’m not sure it’s wrong. Obviously it goes against traditional social norms, but it’s not like she was hurting them. Sex is important and all the articles say that for a woman to have good sex she should understand her body. So on that level she was giving her daughters a great start. It’s just...strange.”