Not My Daughter. Barbara Delinsky

is public,’ Sunny cried in a frantic whisper, gripping the laces that framed her V-neck. ‘You can’t imagine how I feel. I swear, this is in the genes. Jessica called my mother last night – my mother, the queen of quirky – and she’s just fine with her teenage granddaughter being pregnant, or so Jessica says. I have to take her word for it, because I am not about to discuss this with my mother.’

      ‘It is not your fault.’

      ‘Dan blames me.’

      ‘That’s because he needs to blame someone, but he’s wrong.’

      ‘Is he?’ Sunny asked. Her V-neck was narrowing as she clenched the laces. ‘He says I never confronted the issue of my mother head-on, and maybe he’s right. I’ve talked to Jessica until I was blue in the face about the right and wrong way of doing things, but did I ever come out and say my mother is a misfit? Did I ever call her unbalanced or selfish or…or evil? Well, she isn’t evil, just totally outrageous – but no, I don’t call my mother names in front of the kids, because a good person doesn’t do that. Oh, and Dan blames you and Kate for not controlling your daughters, because Jessica would never have done this alone.’

      Susan felt the same qualm she had earlier with Kate. These friends meant the world to her. With so much happening, she needed them on her side. ‘Going after each other won’t help. Playing the blame game is destructive.’

      ‘Tell that to Dan.’

      ‘Is he going after Adam too?’

      ‘No, because Jessica won’t confirm that it was Adam, and Dan won’t confront anyone on the outside yet. He wants to keep this as quiet as possible. In the meanwhile, he has me to upbraid.’

      Susan loved Dan for enabling Sunny to create the structured life she needed, but he had strong opinions and was judgmental without ever raising his voice. ‘Speak up, Sunny. Tell him he’s wrong.’

      ‘Easier said than done.’ She continued to tug at her neckline. ‘You don’t know what it’s like to have a husband.’

      Coming from a stranger, it might have been a slap in the face, but Susan knew Sunny wasn’t criticizing her; she was simply complaining about Dan.

      Susan covered her friend’s hand lest she choke herself. ‘He’s being unfair.’

      ‘He’s my husband.’

      It wasn’t anything new. In all the years Susan had known her, Sunny had deferred to Dan on every major issue. There had been times, even during the creation of PC Wool, when he had been an uninvited presence, second-guessing every decision. Much as the others coached her, though – much as Sunny promised not to ask his permission when she wanted, say, to buy a new coat – she always fell back to the default.

      But Susan didn’t have the strength to argue. ‘I just think we should get Phil on our side.’

      ‘You’re worried about your job,’ Sunny hissed, ‘but what about mine? What about Dan’s? Fine for you to act in your own best interest, but what about ours? Your daughter may be making waves, but mine is barely seven weeks pregnant. I don’t need to go public yet. It’ll be another three months before anyone even guesses.’

      ‘I thought the same thing about Lily, and look what happened,’ Susan pointed out. Yes, she was acting in her own best interest, but the line between what was best for her and what was best for her friends was fluid. She squeezed Sunny’s hand to soften the words. ‘Who’s to say Abby won’t blab about Mary Kate and Jessica, too?’

      ‘You need to be talking to her, not to me.’

      Not a bad idea, Susan realized. But the basic problem remained. ‘This month, next month, the month after – it doesn’t matter, Sunny. You can put it off all you want, but sooner or later the story will break.’

      ‘Later is better. At least the holidays will be over. Next week is Thanksgiving, for God’s sake. If this comes out now, with us going to Albany to see Dan’s family, it’ll ruin everything.’

      If it wasn’t Thanksgiving, it would be Christmas. There would never be a good time for this, Susan knew. But she could wait a week.

      News of Lily’s pregnancy spread. Back in her office, Susan received a call from the middle school principal, who was ostensibly more curious than disapproving, though Susan imagined the latter was there. When she stopped at PC Beans for coffee on her way to a varsity football game, she felt other customers staring. And when she went to the supermarket on her way home, she knew the checkout clerk was darting her questioning looks.