The sheriff yelled at Coot, “Take her back inside!”

But Coot did not move, partly because Joseph had his knee dug into Coot’s lower back.

“I said get her inside,” yelled the sheriff. “Now!”

Coot and Joseph rushed her toward the courthouse, moving quickly through the people with wide eyes. She could hear the people mumble when they passed them.

When they reached the building, Coot beat on the door and said, “Let us in!”

The latch clicked. The door opened. Marigold, Joseph, and Coot rushed inside. Marigold collapsed in Coot’s arms and began to cry so hard she almost vomited.

“This is turning out to be a great night,” said Joseph.

Eighty-Six
How High the Moon

The moon kept her awake. The light was too bright for sleeping. Ruth opened her eyes. She was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The motel room was filled with enough moonlight that she could make out the mermaid wallpaper. Pete was sound asleep beside her. She kissed his neck. He rolled onto his side.

She stood in the breezeway, watching the whitecaps on the bay. She could see them clearly in the glow of the moon. The long, dark flats of grass jutted outward into the water, disrupting the shallow waves, giving them something to crash against. The pelicans were all asleep. The wind from the bay tossed her hair in all directions. The taste of the salt air was in her mouth.

She missed Paul more than ever. Each day her loneliness seemed to get a little worse. It was as though her feelings were stored in different compartments within the same big box. She felt pure elation with Pete, to be here, to be married, and to have the modern miracle of a shower.

But standing here, alone, right now, in the cold night, against the wind, she could feel how alone she really was.

The older she got, the smaller she felt in this world. But Paul had always made her feel big. He made her feel as though the sun couldn’t rise or set without her. And she’d somehow believed this for most of her life—for better or worse. But now that he was gone, now that she was in a world without him, she felt like she hardly mattered. The feelings of rejection came back. She was the child of a mother who didn’t want her. A baby who had been left to die by the woman who was supposed to nurse her into life.

She started crying. She wondered about that woman and where she was. She wondered if the woman was having a marvelous life without her or if she was suffering. She cried, but not for too long. She had cried so much lately; she was weary of crying.

She watched the moon on the breast of the water. She sat on the bench beside her door and felt something beneath her.