“Just wait until you get home and we’ll straighten all that out. You don’t need to go calling him up late at night when you’ve been drinking.”

“I want the phone number, Daddy. Give it to me.”

“I’m not going to do that, honey. I know what’s best about this now. Don’t go getting in a hurry. Don’t—”

“Daddy, give me the number Malcolm gave you. I have to call him back.”

“We’ll see you Sunday,” Daddy said and hung up the phone. It was always how he ended conversations he didn’t like.

“Excuse me,” I said to Derry. I had been talking on the living room phone. “I have to go and make a call. I’ll use the phone in the bedroom.” I went into Derry’s bedroom and called Malcolm’s mother in Martinsville and got his phone number in South Carolina and called him. “Daddy said you called me,” I said. “What did you call me for?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in Montgomery with Charles William and Irise. We came to see his cousin.”

“Oh, my God. You’re with them.”

“They’re my friends. We came to see a house. An unbelievable house with glass walls and a pond that runs through the living room. They’re my friends, Malcolm. I love them. What did you call me for?”

“Your father’s lawyers sent me some goddamn papers. I’m going to sign them, Rhoda, because my father’s sick and my mother and father can’t even pay their rent. I have to help my parents. I can’t pay child support to you and help them so I’m going to sign this goddamn thing. I just want to make sure you know why. Whatever your old man’s up to.”

“I wish I could see you. I wish I could talk to you. Little Malcolm asks about you. He said—”

“Rhoda.”

“Yes.”

“This is your divorce. You’re the one who wanted to divorce me.”

“Why shouldn’t I? You don’t love me. You don’t care a thing about me. What do you want me to do? What are you doing? You’re fucking someone, aren’t you? I know you’re fucking someone. That’s why you don’t care what happens to the children. You never even picked them up.”