“What an evil shrew,” Julia said. “It’s amazing to me that Dorie turned out as well-adjusted as she did, especially considering all those years of verbal abuse Phyllis subjected her to. God, my mother hated her. Did you know, that time when we were sophomores and Phyllis threw Dorie out of the house because she found out Dorie was sneaking around dating that boy who got kicked out of Savannah High for selling weed, my mom actually tried to talk my dad into asking Phyllis to let Dorie live with us?”

“No!” Ellis said. “That’s so funny. When that happened, I begged my mom to adopt Dorie. I was so clueless, I didn’t understand you couldn’t adopt somebody whose parents were still living. God bless Mama, she actually got up the nerve to call Phyllis and suggest that Dorie wasn’t really the tramp of the town. Phyllis never spoke to my mom again. Mama and I have had our own moments, God knows, but I’ll never forget how proud of her I was when she stuck up for Dorie that time.”

“If Phyllis had been my mother, I think I would have taken an axe to her years ago,” Julia said. “Like it was Dorie’s fault that she was so pretty. I think Phyllis hated the fact that Dorie looked like her dad’s side of the family. Remember how she used to call Dorie ‘her pretty little flake’?”

“And Dorie wasn’t dumb,” Ellis agreed. “Maybe she didn’t have a 4.0 GPA like Willa, but she made decent grades.”

“Didn’t matter,” Julia said. “Willa was always the smart, successful one according to Phyllis. So Willa went to law school and made partner when she was only in her thirties? Whoopie-shit. And now she’s not even practicing law. And what about good old Nash, the only son, the golden boy who could never do wrong? What’s he doing these days? I’m almost afraid to ask Dorie.”

“Nash,” said Ellis succinctly, “is still Nash. Still writing poetry, although as far as I know, he’s never had a word published. Last I heard, he was living rent-free in Dorie’s grandma’s old house on Forty-eighth Street. And you’ll love this part: he drives a big ol’ ’70s hearse, and he gives these ghost tours of haunted houses downtown.”

“You’re kidding me,” Julia said. “For real?”

Ellis slapped her right hand over her heart. “As God is my witness. Last time I was home, I saw him handing out flyers on Bay Street. You should have seen him,” she said, giggling. “He was wearing this zip-front jumpsuit, and an army surplus gas mask, and he had what looked like an old vacuum cleaner canister strapped on his back. He gave me his business card. At first I thought maybe he was hitting on me, then I figured out he just wanted me to cough up eighty-five dollars for his stinkin’ tour. Can you believe it? Julia, he’s even got a website.”

“Ghostdusters.com,” Dorie said, padding barefoot into the dining room. She’d changed into a pair of drawstring cotton pajama pants and a Hello Kitty tank top, her hair caught in a ponytail on top of her head. She looked all of thirteen. “Could you die? All that fancy education, and he’s squatting in Granny’s house and hustling tourists with these ridiculous stories about talking tombstones in Colonial Cemetery and headless duels in Monterey Square.”

Ellis blushed guiltily. “It sounds like it could be a pretty successful business, though.”

“Yeah, maybe if he wanted to work at it, it could be, but you know Nash. Work really is a four-letter word as far as he’s concerned. Hey, is anybody else hungry? I’m thinking about fixing myself a grilled cheese sandwich.”

“We just ate four hours ago,” Julia reminded her. “Not to mention popcorn and Fudgsicles.”

“I’m eating for two now,” Dorie said. “At least now that you guys know, I can stop sneaking around and binging on cereal and scrambled eggs when you’re not looking.”

“If I ate like that I’d blow up like a balloon,” Ellis said. “I still can’t believe you’re three months pregnant, walking around looking like a stick.”

Dorie pulled up her tank top and pooched out her tummy. “A stick? Look at this gut! There’s a baby in there, for real.” She turned around and wiggled her butt at her friends. “And look at this ass. It’s like, two axe handles wide, as my daddy would say.”

Julia gave Dorie’s butt an affectionate slap. “Who are you kidding? You’ve still got the tiniest hiney on the planet, Dorie. For now anyway. Come on. I’ll fix you your grilled cheese, little mama.”

The three of them trooped into the kitchen. Dorie and Ellis perched at the kitchen table while Julia melted butter in a frying pan and assembled Dorie’s sandwich.

When the sandwich was golden brown, with melted cheddar cheese oozing out the sides, Julia flipped it onto a plate and slid it in front of Dorie, along with a glass of milk.

“Oh, bliss,” Dorie said, taking a bite and rolling her eyes. “Stephen always says the best sandwich in the world is the one somebody else makes for you.”

“About Stephen,” Ellis said slowly. “Dorie, you really are going to have to tell him about the baby. Have you even talked to him since he moved out?”

Dorie chewed slowly. She took another bite of grilled cheese and then another. When the sandwich was half eaten, she pushed the plate away.

“I can’t,” she said. “I can’t talk to him. I can’t hear his voice. I can’t see him. Not yet. He calls, but I don’t answer. I know he drives past the house. I’ve seen his car cruise past half a dozen times. He doesn’t have the balls to stop and ring the doorbell. Which is good, ’cuz I don’t think I could answer the door if he did.”

“Do you even know where he’s living?” Julia asked.

“At Matt’s, I suppose,” Dorie said. “He’s got a big old Victorian in Midtown. We went to a party there last fall.”

“You’re going to have to talk to Stephen, Dorie, and sooner would be better than later. You know what a small town Savannah is,” Julia said. “You’re gonna start showing sooner or later. And you know how people talk. You need to figure out the next step.”

“I can’t,” Dorie wailed. “I don’t know what to say to him. Anway, I don’t know what the next step is. I don’t know how to get a divorce.”

“I do,” Ellis said lightly. “It’s not that hard, really. Look at me, I got mine at twenty-three. If this is really what you want, Dorie, I’ll give you my lawyer’s name. He was one of Baylor’s fraternity brothers. He’s still in Savannah, I know, because he sends me a Christmas card every year. Guess he thinks that now I’m in my thirties, I’ll start throwing some divorce work his way.”

Dorie tore off a chunk of the grilled cheese sandwich and nibbled at it. “I never, ever thought I would be thinking about getting a divorce. After my parents split up, I swore when I fell in love, it would be forever. You guys know how many men I went with over the years. I never even considered marrying any of them. Not until I met Stephen. That’s why I waited so long to say yes. I wanted to be sure.” She propped her feet up on the kitchen table. “The only thing I know for sure now is that nothing is for sure. And look at me—I’m barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. And oh yeah, my baby daddy has a boyfriend.” She sniffed loudly.

“How could you know?” Ellis said sympathetically. “I mean, you guys lived together for a year. We all thought it was the real deal.”

“Yeah, he fooled even me,” Julia agreed. “And you know I never liked any other guy you dated before. My gaydar is usually pretty accurate.” She glanced over at Dorie. “I really am sorry, honey. Do you want to talk about something else?”

“It’s okay,” Dorie said, trying to smile through her tears. “Don’t mind me. I’m just hormonal. I cry all the time. I cried this morning when I realized we were out of Frosted Flakes.”

“I’ll get another box,” Julia said. “Promise.”

“Are you sure you still feel like talking?” Ellis asked. “It’s getting late, and I know you must be emotionally exhausted.”

“No, I’m all right,” Dorie said, brushing bread crumbs from her tank top. “It feels good to finally talk to somebody about all this. I’ve had all these secrets bottled up inside me. It just felt like I was going to explode if I didn’t tell somebody about the baby.”