Her brother frowned. “But what happens if you blow it?”

“Dan!” Mary Fran hustled back to the table and shoved Holden into her brother’s lap. “She’s not going to blow it! Lucy can do anything she sets her mind to.”

Holden chose that moment to rake his little raggedy baby fingernails across Dan’s cheek. “Ow!”

“I think what we’re asking is, are you sure you want to put yourself out there like this?” Lucy’s mother reached across the table to stroke her fingers. “It’s a huge challenge, Lucy. I just don’t want to see my sweet girl hurt or humiliated-not ever again.”

“Thanks, Mom. I think. But it’s too late now. The Palm Club is paying our agency a lot of money to run this campaign, and I’m the campaign-monthly appearances on Wake Up Miami, a weekly column in Miami Woman, the biggest advertising blitz I’ve ever put together. I have no choice but to be successful.”

“That’s an awful lot of pressure to put on yourself, Luce.” Mary Fran looked worried.

“By God, those reality TV shows are something, aren’t they?” Her father served himself more potatoes. “They make over your car, your house, your marriage, your filing cabinet, your face.” He went for the cabbage next. “I think the only frontier left for TV is ritual human sacrifice and live copulation.”

Lucy’s mother rolled her eyes. Mary Fran pursed her mouth in disgust. Then Dan said, “You must not have direct satellite yet.”

The men took a cleaned-up Holden into the family room to watch football while the women cleared the table. Since her sister had traveled from Atlanta with just one kid, Lucy hoped they might have time to chat. But Frannie looked like she needed a nap more than a heart-to-heart.

“How’s Keith doing?”