She shook her head. “I’m just really, really angry. I can’t talk about it right now. Rennie might see. Go and play. I’ll be together in a minute.”

He pulled her into a hug, and the tremor in her shoulders echoed through him as though it were a sob. “I’m going to hug you first. Then I’ll play and take you and Rennie out for pizza afterward. Even better, we’ll order in and have root beer floats. Root beer floats are made of win.”

A ghost of a smile played on her lips. “No wonder you and Rennie get along so well. But you shouldn’t worry. You’re going to want to be with your friends. I’m all right.”

He kissed her forehead. “You and Rennie are my friends. Now go sit down and be impressed with my athletic prowess.” Keeping his arm around her shoulder he guided her back to the table, and then ran off to the field.

Erin handed her a cookie. “Looks like you could use one of these. I have a candy bar in my bag, wanna share it?”

Elise took the cookie and ate it, shoving her anger away. She’d become such a champion at shoving her anger away, at pushing it aside to get the job done, that she wondered about the effect it had on her body. And her mind. Still, right then it wouldn’t do her any good and it certainly wouldn’t help for Rennie to see it. “I’m good for now. I’m apparently having pizza and ice cream with Brody after this, so I’ll eat too many carbs then.”

Erin raised a brow and Elise wanted to laugh. “What?” After several silent moments, Erin said, “Nothing. He does that to me too. When I’m having a hard day. He used to show up at my house with a fully loaded pie, a six-pack and some horrible movie with screaming and gratuitous nudity in it. He’s a good friend to have. Or more. Or whatever.”

Elise did laugh then. “You’re not very subtle.” She winced as Ben tackled Todd. “Oh, ouch! I thought this was flag football.” “Yeah, it is. But with tackling.” Maggie looked back to the game again. “Hey! Don’t break anything, I need him in one piece,” she called out.

The kids made their way over, and Rennie settled in Elise’s lap, eating cookies and clapping for Brody. It was wonderfully normal, and Elise sent a prayer of thanks that they had days like this now.

After the children had eaten their fill, they headed back to the swings and Erin turned back to Elise. “So when you toured before, did you bring Rennie with you? I’m curious. We brought Adele— that was my little girl—along on tour, but her father was our manager, so that was easy enough.”

“My mother came along with us. She’d keep Rennie occupied while I was at rehearsals and on stage. I did have a nanny once, but Rennie and her gran are pretty tight, so neither of them liked it much. My mom had to fly to Australia to take over.” Elise laughed at the memory. “I thought about quitting, but it was a steady source of income, and for a lot of the year I’d be in New York or a few hours’ train ride away.” She knew how much her parents had supported her; she’d have been lost without them.

“There are worse ways for a child to grow up than hearing a live orchestra on a regular basis,” Maggie said.

“She was all about the costumes. Even when she was just a baby. Anything with sequins or feathers would catch her eye. She wanted to learn en pointe so she could have toe shoes because they’re satiny and so pretty.”

“Is she all set to follow in your footsteps, then? With dancing?” Erin asked.

“She likes dance, but she doesn’t love it so much she’s willing to live it. Which is fine with me, really. The kind of schooling she’d need if she really wanted to pursue dancing professionally would mean a lot less time together for us. She’s not focused in the way she needs to be. But she’s really artistic, it comes from both sides for her. Painting and drawing are more her thing than dancing. Watching her paint is an experience; she’s all movement and color. Her father was a painter, but he was her polar opposite when he worked. He went inside himself so deep he’d stare at a canvas for hours without moving. She’s talking and dancing around, singing. She announced to me yesterday that she needs a studio of her own.”

“Where was her father during all this? Staring at a canvas while you did all the work? God, sometimes men are such lazy ass**les. They can spot a doormat a mile away. He had your number,” Raven said.

Elise looked at her and wondered what her deal was. It wasn’t that she was deliberately hurtful. But she seemed to just say whatever she wanted whenever she wanted without a thought. It wasn’t cute. It rubbed Elise the wrong way. Part of that, she could admit, was that Raven clearly had some kind of connection to Brody. But just because you could say anything you wanted at any time didn’t mean you should. Or that a little bit of thought before you spoke wasn’t in order.

“Wow, Raven, did you forget to take your manners pills this morning?” Maggie asked.

“She doesn’t mean to sound like a bitch. She just seems to lack filters,” Erin explained of her friend.

“Was that rude? Clearly there’s a father if there’s a kid. I just thought I’d join in on the conversation.” Raven truly did look confused, and Elise eased back on her anger. Still, Raven just wanted to know, so Elise decided to school her some.

“There was a father in as much as I had sex with a male who donated his sperm. In the whole of her life, she’s probably only spent a total of a week with him. He was in county jail when she was born. In the end, it’s a far better thing that I had to do much of Rennie’s child-rearing myself.” Elise hoped like hell all Rennie got from her father was his artistic talent.