She nodded toward the plate. “I’m not cooking you anything anymore if you’re not going to eat it.”

I returned to my seat. “You’re right. I’m excited about the day and here I am running off without finishing.” I took a bite of my now lukewarm eggs. Birdie and I talked about the weather and the party, about town gossip and the local election.

“You know what I think?” I asked.

She laughed. “I have no idea.”

“You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, and Mother was blessed to have you as a best friend.”

“Now don’t you go getting all gooshy on me. Get on out of here and start your day.”

I was at Pappy’s stand buying vegetables, discussing the weirdness of seedless watermelon, when Rusty called. I stared at the screen of the cell phone, because it didn’t—in some otherworldly way—seem possible that Rusty could call me while I talked to Pappy, while I bought produce in Bayside.

Questions chased after one another inside my head, too rapid to answer: Is he here in town? What does he need? Should I answer? I answered on the last ring before voice mail. “Hello.”

“Where are you?” His voice was clear, as if he stood next to me, his breath in my ear. My stomach plummeted, an elevator with a broken cable.

“In Alabama. Where are you?”

“In Atlanta where we live.”

“Oh, Rusty. Why did you hang up on me yesterday? I hate that so much.”

“I’m sorry. I was pissed. Listen, you need to come home. Your dad needs you, and there is mail everywhere, and—”

“No,” I interrupted.

“Yes.” He coughed. “You need to come home. There’s a million things that need to be done. The exterminator couldn’t get in while I was at work. The yard guy says he broke a sprinkler head. Anna Morehead says you missed the organizational meeting for your mother’s charity. You can’t stay there any longer.”

He was right.

I’d walked a few yards away from Pappy, sitting on a bench at the edge of the sidewalk. “We have a family,” Rusty said. “My God, your dad has called me ten times. My secretary is running errands for him; shouldn’t you be there for him? For Lil?”

“What?”

“You just left everyone, Ellie. Everyone. Not just me.”

Guilt prodded at the outside of my heart, but I wouldn’t let it in. “Lil is at school, happy. I’ve talked to her every day. Dad is a grown man; you should not have your secretary running errands for him. I’ve also talked to him … he’s fine. I’ve been gone for a few days. That’s all.”

“Shit, this is ridiculous.” His voice changed: softer, gentler. “Baby, I’m just so hurt that you’d leave when I wanted you to stay.”

“Rusty, please stop it.”