“Oh, I was. A CPA and vice president of finance for a small but very successful investment firm. I left that job years ago for a quieter, more manageable life as a shop owner. That’s how I met my wife, Pam, also an escaped executive who was tired of the rat race and wanted to have a baby. We’re dropouts. We sell bikes, and also have a large add-on to the store where we sell imported tea, herbs, vitamins and natural supplements.”

“You’re kidding!”

“We’re cyclists. Long-distance riders. I left the job before I left the marriage and I think that’s what did it to Hope, put her over the edge. She’s been like this for years now. Somewhere along the way I must have hurt her very deeply...”

“Hope has been like this since she was a teenager,” Charley said. “If she didn’t like the way things were, she invented something she liked better. And right now I suppose she’s making up a life for a psychiatrist. She’s been escorted to the psych ward.”

“Oh, man,” he said, shaking his head.

After a long afternoon in the hospital, Charley and Frank retired to a restaurant for a badly needed bottle of wine and food. They had permission from Bobbi and Trude—two tired and relieved little girls in possession of their father’s cell phone number if they needed him.

“What makes you think it was your doing?” Charley asked.

He shook his head sadly. “She barely resembles the sweet young woman I married. She was so filled with good intentions. She tried so hard to please my mother, to get her approval. It was impossible but Hope never seemed to understand it had nothing to do with her. My mother was an old snob. No one in the family ever took her seriously. There are only two or three people on the East Coast she truly admired.” He shook his head and laughed. “Hope was so determined. She was going to do everything the Griffin way! She would make us the toast of Philadelphia. I broke her heart when I told her nothing could make me more miserable.”

“Oh, Frank...”

“I finally couldn’t take any more of it. My God, her lists alone were enough to drive me mad. If I’d wanted to marry my mother, I could have chosen from a parade of Philly girls already picked out for me. When we divorced, no matter how many times I told her it was because that uppity lifestyle just made me unhappy, Hope never believed me. She always thought I left her because she just hadn’t done it well enough. There was just no—”

“Frank, it wasn’t you,” Charley said.

“It was mostly pretense with my mother, too, God rest her. My sisters and I, we were usually amused by Mother’s efforts to be...well... We were amused when we weren’t pissed off. Our family has some money from a good furniture business that my father and uncle built plus some clever investments. If you bought land a few generations ago, urban growth being what it is, there was money to be made. But Hope could never quite get that straight, that my mother was just a wannabe rich matron who was born to a farmer. She told people her ancestors came over on the Mayflower. It was rubbish.”

“But, Frank, this has been going on with Hope for years, since she was about fifteen. She moved in with our grandparents about then and pretended they were her parents because they were rich and socially prominent.”

Charley put her hand on Frank’s arm. “Your girls haven’t met their grandmother, Hope’s mother. They’ve only met their great-grandmother. Their grandmother, Josephine, lives a very simple, low-key existence and manages a flower shop. She’s one of the kindest, loveliest people I know. And I’m not Hope’s sister, I’m her cousin. Her sister Krista was just released from prison. Hope had some notion she was coming home to get an inheritance... There’s no inheritance. I could go on but you’d need a chart.”

Frank stared at Charley in disbelief.

“We’ve got some catching up to do,” Charley said. “I hope you’re going to be around for a couple of days. For the girls’ sake, you should hear the reality of our family. They deserve a shot at a normal, healthy life and part of that depends on them understanding their roots. Denial doesn’t make sense anymore.”

“Spoken like a true talk show host.”

“Canceled talk show host. Right now I’m just on the mop and bucket detail...”

“Which means?”

“Cleanup crew. Looks like we’ve got three or four generations to tidy up before summer’s over. And I just can’t imagine how that’s going to be done while keeping Meg’s health as the priority.” She took a deep breath. “I’m tempted to shut the whole thing down right where it is. Krista and I can take care of Meg. But Hope needs more help than we can give.”

“You can count on me,” he said, pouring the last of the wine into Charley’s glass. “She’s the mother of my children. I have responsibility there.”

She smiled at him as she covered his hand with hers. “I’m sorry we never got to know each other, Frank. You’re a good guy.”

Chapter Eleven

After what was, under the circumstances, a perfectly lovely visit with Frank, Charley drove only as far as Megan’s house in the city. She had a key and warned John that she’d be staying there for the night. She’d checked in with Meg and Krista several times throughout the day, reassuring them that the girls and Hope were all fine, which they weren’t really. But they were in no imminent medical crisis and Charley decided to give the full story in person. In case all of it upset her sister. It was possible Meg could feel some responsibility, having set up this summer reunion as she had.

In fact, Charley couldn’t remember Megan ever being emotionally upset. She had always been strong and serene and philosophical. Why she would have cancer was such a mystery. Why anyone would have that awful scourge was perplexing but Meg had done all the things Charley had convinced herself were necessary to avoid the beast—she laughed often, she loved thoroughly, she didn’t hold grudges, she exercised and ate healthy foods and she’d never been particularly vulnerable to illness. She was small of stature but hardy. The only blight on an almost perfect marriage with John was their inability to conceive. Even with the help of doctors and piles of money.

And yet here they were. The already crazy family was imploding and Meg was probably dying. Charley was asking herself, what would be the greatest gift she could give her sister now. The answer was out of her reach.

She had breakfast in the hospital cafeteria with Frank. He had spent the night in the chair in his daughters’ room. They didn’t really need him there but he didn’t want them to wake in a panic and wonder if they were safe. They had another fantastic visit but this time Frank wanted to know more about Charley and her personal life.

“Michael,” she told him. “We’ve been together for twenty-two years, have a son, Eric, but we haven’t married. Michael wants to marry now. My life is so crazy right now—don’t you think I’d love to just turn my back on all of it and escape into matrimonial bliss with the love of my life?”

“No,” Frank said with a smile. “I don’t think that for one second. Trying to sort a few things out, are you?”

She rested her forehead in a hand and groaned.

“I’ve been there, Charley,” Frank said. “I left my wife, though she was clearly vulnerable. I had to rescue my daughters from their mother and it wasn’t easy. I made so many mistakes, and yet I did the only things I could do. I’m still doing all I can and I’m not sure it will ever be enough. Just do yourself one favor—tell the truth about how you feel and what you’re going through.”

Trite, she thought. Oversimplified. We’re dealing with mental illness, cancer, family dysfunction. Plus, I’m fired and unemployable. And I’m in some kind of weird romantic power struggle with the man I love. How I feel is fucked.

But she loved Frank and his ponytail and his dropout lifestyle. And she was starting to love those high-maintenance girls. They were young. With the right kind of guidance, they could be okay.

She called Meg and told her she was staying in the city until the girls were discharged and on their way home with their father. Then she drove to the flower shop that Jo managed and found her behind the counter. Thankfully there were no customers in the store. Jo smiled when she saw Charley enter.

“Is your helper here?” Charley asked.

“Not yet. She doesn’t come in until eleven.”

“Good. I have a very complicated story to tell you. It’s family business.”

Jo’s smile faded. “This doesn’t sound like it’s going to be good news. Is Meg okay?”

“She’s hanging in there. This is more about your family. Hope and the girls came to the lake.”

“They did?” she asked, wide-eyed. “They actually came?”

“It didn’t last long,” Charley said. “It didn’t go well.”

Charley carefully went through the details, mapping out as best she could all the disjointed family relationships Hope had concocted. It was one of the most difficult things she’d ever done. Jo was calm and listened raptly, even asking a few questions, but it was Charley who felt a tear spill over as she explained Trude and Bobbi didn’t even know who their grandmother was. “All this time Hope has given me billing as her sister, apparently you’ve become a distant relative and Grandma Berkey is the woman who raised her. I was so furious I thought I’d strangle her. But it isn’t just her fantasy life. It turns out she’s legitimately delusional. With John’s help, she’s in the temporary care of the psych ward, where she’s being evaluated. She’s going to need someone to see after her, legally if nothing else, and I’m afraid it’s not going to be me.”

“Of course not,” Jo said. “I suppose that should be my responsibility. But first, I have to see the girls. Let me call Margie and see if she can come early. Are you going back to the lake now?”

“Not just yet. I’ll be glad to take you to the hospital.”