I went out into the play yard and sat down on the swing. I looked up into the crepe myrtle tree. I considered calling my mother and asking her for something, some money, a new dress, a sofa for the living room. I swung for a while, trying to soothe myself. I began to remember scenes from the night before. Our new friend, Robert Haverty, dancing with me, in the living room, in the den, on the patio and sidewalk. You know I’m in love with you, he said. I have to have you. We were meant for each other. Maybe he was right. Robert was rich. He had inherited a lot of money. He could make the doctors pay attention to me. He could take me to the Caribbean to live. We could leave these messes here and run away. I leaned my head into the swing chain. I had to make it come out right. I had to find some way to be happy.

“The phone’s for you,” Klane said, coming to the door. “It’s a man.”

“We wanted to see how you are,” Robert said. “Hilton wants you to meet her in the park. Are your children up?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “How are you?”

“I woke up thinking about you. Will you call me later, at the newspaper?”

“Yes. Where’s Hilton?”

“In the other room. Go with her to the park. I want our children to play together.”

“All right.” I put both hands on the receiver. It was so sexy. So dangerous and scary and sexy. He was so bold, such a risk-taker. He wanted us all to be together, then he wanted to be alone with me. He was the man I should have married, the man I should have waited for.

“Here’s Hilton,” he said. “She wants to talk to you. We’re glad you’re okay.”

“Oh, Rhoda,” she said. “We had so much fun. Malcolm’s so much fun. He’s the wittiest man I’ve ever met. Robert wants us to go to the park. He thinks the children should have a picnic.”

“Okay,” I said. “Sure. As soon as I get them up.”

I went into the babies’ room to see if they were waking. Little Malcolm was beginning to stir. I went over to the bed and touched his head. “Get up, precious,” I whispered. “We’re going to have a picnic in the park.” He stirred, his beautiful little head bumped up and down on the sheet. In the other crib Jimmy was curled up like a snail, so deep in sleep I wasn’t sure I could wake him.