Lucy reached for her glass of ice water and sipped demurely, looking around the New Year’s Day table, wondering why she’d thought she could survive another visit to the Land o‘ Food when Christmas had been such an unmitigated disaster. She still hadn’t come clean to Theo about the pecan pie from December 26 and the deception was gnawing a hole in her soul. She’d promised that everything that went into her mouth would go into her food journal, and she’d already blown it, not even a month into her new life. And tomorrow was her first weigh-in! On live television!

She had no choice but to come clean. It’s not like she could say she forgot she ate half a pie.

“What kind of diet is it again, honey?”

The kind where you sneak a half a pecan pie.

“It’s not a diet, Mother. Lucy calls it a fitness and nutrition plan.” This clarification came from Lucy’s older sister, Mary Fran, who was shoveling some kind of green bean paste from a jar into the open maw of her youngest.

Lucy watched her nephew spew most of it out and bang his fists on the high chair tray. She could relate. If she didn’t get a piece of that soda bread in the next five seconds, she’d be banging her fists on the table as well. Somehow, she’d survived an entire month eating nothing but whole grains, fresh produce, and lean cuts of meat. What the hell kind of torture was that! Nothing fried. Nothing gooey. Nothing with icing on it. Nothing even vaguely cupcake-shaped. Lucy didn’t think she’d make it through this dinner without shaming herself.

“She doesn’t need to diet. She’s beautiful.” Her father patted Lucy’s hand. “Have some potatoes, sweetheart. You won’t have good luck this year unless you do.”

“Where do you get this stuff, Daddy? I swear!” Mary Fran wiped a green smear off little Holden’s face while attempting to feed herself. Lucy decided it was no wonder Frannie was thin. She never had a second to eat. Maybe having three babies in five years was the secret to staying thin.