Page 151 of The Trouble with Flings

“So it runs in the family,” my mother teases, and we all laugh.

“Let me tell you, it was a big change for us,” Margot says. “I went from being a college girl with a boyfriend and shared dreams of moving to Paris so Alexander could make a name for himself in the art world to finding out I was pregnant. We had no money, and Alexander wasn’t old enough to gain access to his trust fund, so we chose to do the responsible thing. We came here. He worked at the resort, and we started building our life.”

She takes a deep breath and says, “I’m not from the island. We met our freshman year in college, and suddenly our life became a whirlwind of having babies and Alexander building his career. Alexander’s parents were very different from him and me. They had very strict, traditional values. I had to learn to dress for meals, put on a brave face for the entire island, and keep our children in line. Being a Silver was not easy for us. I’m not sure it’s easy now, but we have tried to make it easier for our kids. One day I spun around and realized I didn’t know who I was beyond being a mother and a Silver.”

I remember what Fitz had said about putting on a brave face for the sake of the public, and my heart goes out to Margot and Alexander. “That sounds like a lot.”

“It was. I thank God every day for Gail and Shelley, because I kept everything bottled up, but with them, I didn’t have to. And one day I lost it,” Margot says.

My mother covers Margot’s hand with her own, compassion brimming in her eyes. “We’ve all had those times.”

“You, too?” I ask my mom.

“Honey, your father and I have been together a long time. We’ve had our fair share of roller coaster rides. Try weathering the storm of three teenage girls.”

She and Margot commiserate as Jules, Jayla, and Daphne wander over.

“Can we crash your hen party?” Jules asks.

“Yes, please,” I say. “Our moms are telling me I’m going to lose myself after the baby’s born.”

“Oh, you definitely will,” Jayla says as she sits down. “I love being a mom, but when my kids were infants, there were times when I didn’t know who I was outside of their schedules.”

“Same,” Daphne says. “With Hadley, and then again with the twins. Even with Jock’s and Shelley’s and everyone else’s help.”

“And remember, Jen, I had postpartum depression after I had Kyleigh,” Jayla says. “That was horrible.”

“I remember when you went through that,” I say.

“You said you’d flatten anyone who made me feel bad for being depressed,” Jayla reminds me.

“And I would have,” I say, mentally adding postpartum depression to my list of worries.

“That must have been so hard,” Jules says.

Jayla tells us what she went through, and then she takes our mother’s hand and says, “But you can get through anything with the right people by your side. Sometimes you don’t know what’s wrong until it kicks your ass.”

“That’s so true,” Margot says. “It’s waking up one day and feeling off and another day realizing you haven’t done anything just for yourself in weeks.”

“Yes.” Daphne nods. “I cried in the grocery store parking lot once because I had to go to the bathroom, and I suddenly couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone to the bathroom when I needed to instead of when it was convenient.”

“I cried in the pantry,” Jayla says. “Because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten a meal when it was still hot.”

“You guys are not exactly selling me on this whole motherhood thing,” I say, only half joking.

“It’s not all bad,” Jayla says. “You might lose pieces of your identity, but you also gain this other part that you didn’t know existed. The part that’s so completely in love with your baby, you almost feel guilty about it. Like it’s selfish in some way. But it’s not. It’s just motherhood.”

“The first time Stevie nursed,” Jules says, “I thought I would burn the world down for him and immediately felt insane for thinking it. But it’s not insane. It’s instinct, and I know Grant would do the same, so it’s not just women who feel this way.”

My mother squeezes my hand. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother, sweetheart. Not perfect. Nobody is. But wonderful.”

“She’s right,” Margot says. “The fact that you’re already asking these questions puts you way ahead of many.”

“That’s true, but can we talk about the practical stuff?” Jules asks. “We’re getting pretty deep, and nobody has told her about the sleep deprivation yet.”

“We are not telling her about the sleep deprivation,” my mother says firmly.

“But she should know—”