How To Keep A Secret: A fantastic and brilliant feel-good summer read that you won’t want to end!

“The caterers are setting up. There are bagels.” Lauren opened her mouth to tell her not to keep the fridge door open, and then closed it again. Did she nag? “How was your day?”

“I spent it at school. Enough said.” Mack split a bagel and toasted it.

“I had coffee with Ruth and Helen today. They mentioned an ancestry project you’re working on. Sounds interesting.”

“Interesting?” Mack spread cream cheese on the bagel. “I guess that’s one word for it.”

What had happened to her eager, enthusiastic daughter?

“Do you need help? You know our ancestors on my side of the family were whaling captains? Martha’s Vineyard played an important role in the whaling industry. Nantucket mostly provided the ships, but the Vineyard provided the captains and crews and other support.” Seeing that Mack was barely engaged in the conversation, Lauren stopped. She knew she was trying too hard. Maybe she should make it more personal. “Edgartown, where Grams lives, was one of the most important ports on the coast. The Captain’s House was built in the nineteenth century. Your grandparents spent a lot of time restoring it—” She broke off, aware that she’d lost her audience. She might as well have been having a conversation with the freezer.

Mack carried on eating, unresponsive.

Lauren slid onto the stool next to her. “Did something happen today?”

“No.”

Lauren felt a rush of frustration, and mingled in with the stress of it was sadness because she remembered days when Mack would come running in from school, all smiles, desperate to share something that had happened during the day. Look, Mommy, look at this.

Those days had gone.

“Mrs. Hallam called yesterday.”

“Yeah? I bet the conversation was thrilling.” Mack was careless, but Lauren saw her daughter’s cheeks flush.

“She’s concerned about you. About your grades. She wants us to set up a meeting.”

“Grades. That’s what this is about?”

“This?”

“When you hijack me in the kitchen, I know there’s something. I don’t know why you don’t come right out with it.” Mack put the knife down on the counter, smearing grease.

Lauren sat on her hands to stop herself from snatching the knife up and wiping up the mess. “I didn’t ‘hijack’ you. I want you to know you can talk to me, that’s all.”

“No, what you want is for me to talk to you whether I want to or not about a topic of your choice. Not the same thing.”

Parenting a teenager was like navigating a treacherous swamp. You took a step and hoped you’d plant your foot on solid ground, but it was equally likely you might find yourself sucked under.

“I’m worried about you, Mack. Not speaking up in class? You talk more than anyone I know. And you’re smart, and yet your grades are dropping.”

“I’m bored, okay? I’m sick of English. And history. What use are those? Why doesn’t my school teach computer coding or something interesting and useful that might actually lead to a job?”

Lauren kept calm. “Maybe we can find you a weekend class on computing if that’s what you’d like. But school is important, too. And studying. Our choices have consequences.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Mack gave her a hard look. “They do.”

Something about the way her daughter was staring at her didn’t feel right.

“Mack—”

Mack slid off the stool and slung her schoolbag over her shoulder. “Are we done here? Because I have a ton of homework.”

“We’ll talk about this another time.”

“Great. Something to look forward to.”

Lauren thought, I don’t have the patience for this. “Guests are arriving at eight. Dad will be home around seven, so I thought we could have a private celebration before the party.”

“I have to study. And we both know he won’t be home by seven. He never is.”

“He’s not going to work late on the day of his party.” She said it with more conviction than she felt and Mack shrugged.

“Whatever.” She sauntered off with an indifference and nonchalance that Lauren could never have managed to achieve at any age, certainly not sixteen.

One teenage girl. How hard could it be to handle one teenage girl?

Lauren went upstairs to change and put on her makeup and tried not to think about the time Mack would have sat in the middle of the bed, watching her mother with hungry, admiring eyes.

It seemed that idolizing your mother had an expiration date.

Before leaving the bedroom she checked her reflection in the full-length mirror.

The dress was new and flattered her slender frame. She was the same size she’d been at twenty. Four times a week without fail she went running. She also did yoga and Pilates and was careful what she ate.

It was important to always have a plan and stick to it. She wished Mack could see that.

She tried to ignore the voice in her head that reminded her what she’d been like at sixteen.

She needed to focus on the party.

Of course the one thing you did need at a party to celebrate a fortieth birthday was the person whose birthday it was, and by seven thirty there was still no sign of Edward.

“Told you.” Mack wandered past wearing a pair of skinny jeans that clung and a pair of heavy boots that Ed said made her look like a construction worker.

Don’t say a word, Lauren. Not a word.

“Dad probably got caught up at the office.” But as soon as Mack vanished into the den to watch a movie, Lauren pulled out her phone and sent Ed a quick text.

Are you on your way?

The doorbell rang and she felt a rush of relief. Maybe he’d forgotten his key.

But no, it was the string quartet arriving early.

She let them in, showed them where to set up and walked back to the kitchen, where the caterers seemed to have everything under control.

The champagne was chilling. The glasses were ready. The canapés were in the oven. Everything was perfect.