the dress arrive?”
“Yes. I think the boutique sent the wrong size.”
There was a pause.
Then Clara laughed.
“No, sweetheart. That’s the one I ordered.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Clara, I literally can’t get it on.”
“I know.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean, you know?”
“The party is two weeks away.”
“So?”
Another little laugh.
“So you still have time.”
“For what?”
“To lose some weight.”
I looked toward my daughter.
She was lying in her bassinet with one tiny fist beside her
