Chapter 3 — Jokes Are Confessions

Sophia was nine.

Lucia was five.

When Sophia was born, my mother-in-law, Teresa, had held her in the hospital, looked down at that perfect new face, and said, warmly, “She’s beautiful.

Let’s hope the next one’s a boy.” And everyone in the room had laughed, and I had laughed too, because I was new to the family and wanted to be a good sport, and because I had not yet learned to hear what was underneath.

When Lucia was born, Bryce’s sister Suzanne made a joke at a family dinner.