“She’s perfect. She’s always what she seems to be. Always the same. She’s a perfect little doll.”

“Well, not perfect, Dee. Sometimes she’s disagreeable.”

“When? Every time I’ve ever seen her she’s perfect.”

“She gets mad at me.”

“Well, it never shows. When Malcolm gets mad at me he makes everyone uncomfortable for miles around. Thank God I never have to live with him again. It wasn’t even his baby, Charles William. I think it belonged to this guy who owns a newspaper. I don’t know whose it was. God, you don’t know what I’ve been through.” I finished my drink and started in on a second one. “Listen.” I lowered my voice. “I had to fuck this old fat doctor to get the name of the abortionist. I did it. I swear I did.” I sat back, let it sink in. “No one’s killing me. That’s that. I did what I had to do.”

He shook his head. He finished his first martini and drank half his second one. It was hard to shock Charles William but I thought maybe I had finally done it.

“Where did you fuck him?” he asked. “Where’d you go?”

“In his office on the examining table. Then we went into another room and did it on a bed. You know what he said? He said I had the strongest legs he’d ever seen on a girl. He said my legs were a miracle of nature.” I started laughing then. I reached out my hands and put them on Charles William’s knees and we laughed so hard the bartender came and stood by us to get in on the fun. “Get me some goddamn quarters,” I declared. “I’m playing this goddamn slot machine. And get us some more martinis. You don’t know it, but I’m lucky to be alive.”

* * *

Six martinis later we got into our cars and drove drunkenly home through the deserted streets of town. The streetlights moved the shadows of the leaves along the streets. I crouched down behind the wheel singing songs to myself. Singing Oklahoma, the entire score, then singing, “How High the Moon.”

When I got home I went into the den and started calling people to tell them about my abortion. First I called Robert Haverty in Alexandria. “Can Hilton hear me?”

“No. She’s in the other room.”

“I have to talk to you. Something terrible happened. I have to tell you about it.”

“What is it?”

“I got pregnant. From that night I spent with you. I aborted the baby, Robert. I had to do it. I couldn’t ruin both our lives. I did it in Houston, Texas. My daddy took me.”

“Oh, God. I’m sorry. Jesus. Look, I’ll call you tomorrow and talk about it. I’m really sorry. In a lot of ways. Are you all right?”