“You could cook it here. Well, okay, go on then. I don’t care.” I got out of the station wagon and kissed the children and kept on talking as we walked toward the house. “Guess what, I’m quitting drinking. I really am. I’m getting these pills that if you drink while you’re taking them you can die. So after that, I know I won’t drink. But first I can’t drink for two weeks. Malcolm, you little angel. Give your momma a kiss.” I knelt beside him and hugged his powerful little body into my own. The shells from his bandolier cut into my skin. He let me kiss him on the cheek, then ran away. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s just showing off. Well, that’s good news. If you stick to it.” She was walking into the house, picking up her pocketbook off the shelf. “I’m leaving, Rhoda. I got to get out of here.”

“Okay.” I had hoped I could get her to bathe the children before she left, but there was no stopping Klane when she was set on leaving. I went inside and put a record on the record player and began to dance around the room. Jimmy began to dance with me. I picked him up and danced him around the kitchen table and out into the polished hall. Klane had done the floors. This day was getting better and better. This day was so good it deserved a drink. I started toward the kitchen cabinet that held the scotch, then stopped myself. I picked up the phone and dialed the newspaper office to talk to Robert instead.

“I can’t have a drink for two weeks. What am I going to do?”

“We’ll come get you early,” he said. “What time can you get ready? We’ll go out early and have dinner at the club before the party. Can you be ready by six?”

“I’ll see.”