I’d recognized a few names in Mother’s journal, people she’d remained close to in the tightly wound world of Buckhead. She’d talked about landmarks and places, and although her life was gone, the places she mentioned were still there—the Pink Pig still exists (not in the same place, but I went every year as a child, and I’ve taken Lil every year since she was born). We continue to be members of the Piedmont Driving Club and the Capital City Club. I’m a member of the Junior League, as was Mother and her mother before her. Some things just don’t change.

I grabbed my cell phone and called Sadie, told her that, yes, we were going to her mother’s house in Alabama. I had some questions for Ms. Birdie Worthington. A rebel for her time, Birdie had kept her family name and never took her husband’s last name. Sadie, of course, was thrilled because she knew all along that I would go, and she’d be there to pick me up in the morning.

I hung up as Rusty walked into the bedroom, staring at my suitcase as if it were a man naked in our marriage bed. “What the hell?”

I waited. I’ve learned to do this—wait—because I want to see which Rusty will show up, the angry or the sweet. I hate this about myself, that I do this, that I base my reactions and answers on his moods, but I’ve learned. In a marriage we all learn, I think.

“Ellie.” His voice was soft, sweet. “Are you going somewhere?” He came next to me, kissing me.

“I am. I tried to call you, but I couldn’t reach you.”

“I was on the golf course.”

“I know.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and patted the place next to him. I joined him and he placed his arm around me, pulling me closer, where I dropped my head on his shoulder. “I know how hard this has been for you. I know I’m busy, but you can’t just up and leave.”

“I’m not up and leaving.” I lifted my head and kissed his face. “I’m just going to Birdie’s Summer House for a few days.”

“Huh?”

“You see, there are some things I want to ask her.”

“We have a telephone, Ellie.”

“Rusty, please. I really need to get away for a couple days, and I want to sit down and talk to Birdie. There is nothing wrong with that. Lil’s at summer school. You’re crazy busy. It’s just a few days … .”

He rubbed his hand up and down my back. “You poor thing. You’re hurting so much, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

He released me and took my face in his hands, gently. “I’m sorry that you are, but I don’t think running away is the answer.”