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“You don’t mean that,” Charlie said.

“I didn’t inherit the maternal gene like you and Abby.”

“Well, if Rick and I stay together, I don’t think we’re ever having children,” Charlie said.“He couldn’t handle competing for my attention.”

“I’ll pretend I haven’t said this a million times.Youhaveto leave that guy.Cut the cord.Eleven years is long enough to wait for him to propose.”

“He’ll propose at some point.”

“And that’s a good thing?”Morgan asked.“If you were one of your clients, what would you advise them to do?”

There was a long beat of silence, and then Charlie said, “I gotta go.I’ll call Abby later.Bye.”She hung up before Morgan could say another word.

CHAPTER 4

Charlie

She was born Charlotte, but to her, the name sounded like either a Southern belle or an old woman with floppy jowls and a Mint Julep in each hand, two things she didn’t want to be.She’d been going by Charlie since the first time she saw aPeanutscomic strip and identified with Charlie Brown.He kept hoping things would work out for him no matter how many times he failed, which described Charlie’s relationship with men.Well, one man.She’d been with Rick for a long time, and deep down—or maybe not so deep down, she knew he was wrong for her, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to end it.

“I’ll break up with Rick for you; I’m great at break-ups,” Morgan had said to her more than once, but Charlie knew it had to come from her.I wish my torso were born with a backbone,she thought.

After she’d walked her last therapy client out of her office, Charlie collapsed into a chair.She loved her office, it fit her personality.Charlie thought of herself as a little bit shabby and a little bit chic.

Charlie stood and re-tucked her Gap turtleneck back into her long, flowing Armani skirt.She’d become skilled at pairing designer pieces with less expensive brands and knew precisely the styles that would look good on her.As she had a deep insecurity about her figure, she never wore anything tight or showed cleavage, which could also be because she didn’t have any.She hated her A-cup breasts, which she assumed came from her dad’s side of the family; her mom and sisters were more voluptuous.

Right before she fell headfirst down a manhole of self-loathing, she remembered that she had told Morgan she’d call Abby.

When Abby answered, Charlie heard the equivalent of a prison riot—when it was actually Abby’s four rambunctious kids.Charlie could envision all of them crawling on Abby like ants on a cookie.

“Hold on,” Abby said.The muffled sounds that followed meant Abby had covered the phone with her hand, but Charlie could still hear everything.

“Remember what we do when Mommy is on the phone?”Abby asked.

“We bug you even more!”the kids yelled out.

Charlie heard Emma trying to copy her older siblings, but at eighteen months, her words were mostly unintelligible.

“Levi, can you take everyone into the kitchen and ask Daddy for a snack?”Abby asked.

Charlie heard a lot of shuffling and then a door slam.

“Ow…” Abby said.

“What’s wrong?”Charlie asked.

“I got hit with a broom.”

“The kids hit you with a broom?”

“No, I’m in the closet,” Abby said.

“You’re where?”

“Forget it.What’s going on?”

“Have you heard about Mom?”Charlie asked.

“Is she okay?”