But the truth is that we are apart so seldom that by Sunday night we were already missing each other. Our usual TV watching was punctuated with “I’ll call you tomorrow night at ten” (Fred), and “Remember you’ll be an hour ahead of us” (me). “Don’t let Mary Alice drive too fast. She has a heavy foot” (Fred). “Don’t drive too fast. You know how they’re always working on the Atlanta interstates” (me). We finally went to bed early, exhausted at the thought of going in different directions the next morning.

“Y’all need to go to a marriage counselor,” Mary Alice had told me once when I made the mistake of telling her how I felt when Fred and I were going to be apart for a few days. “That’s not healthy.”

The funny thing is that once we say goodbye, I have this great feeling of freedom. Go figure.

Mary Alice’s black Jaguar pulled into our driveway about eight the next morning. Fred carried my suitcase and hang-up clothes out and I followed with a styrofoam cup of coffee. The plan was to go by and pick up Haley at her apartment.

“You want some coffee?” I asked Sister.

“Nope. Thought we’d stop in Clanton for a snack.”

Fred put my clothes in the car; I kissed him goodbye and got in the front seat. He shut the door and swack! the seatbelt grabbed me. Coffee went everywhere; I screamed.

“What happened?” Fred opened the door and looked at the mess in amazement.

“It’s okay,” Sister said. “It’ll wipe right up from these leather seats.” She was worried about the seats? The seatbelt had caught my bent arm in just the right position to catapult hot coffee from my head to my feet, and she was worried about her car?

“Lord!” Fred said. “What did you do, honey?”

“Not a damn thing.” I crawled out of the car.

“It’s the automatic seatbelt,” Mary Alice explained. “You can’t forget to buckle up.”

“Now you tell me. I’ve even got coffee in my hair. God, what a mess!” Such a mess, I had to shower, wash my hair, and change clothes. When I got back, the leather seats had been wiped off and Fred and Sister were talking about the other safety features in the car.

“Anything else going to surprise me?” I asked. My hair was wet and the shirt and pants I had rinsed out and left hanging over the shower rod might have permanent coffee stains.

Mary Alice assured me that there wasn’t and that she hoped I would get in a better mood, that happy campers were a necessity for a happy trip. Before I could say anything, Fred closed the door, and this time the seatbelt didn’t seem to grab me like it had before. So much for being forewarned.