One evening after an arduous day at the studio, my father arrived home to find Merilee had cut off her long, blond hair. Bobbed at her jawline were scissor tracks, fresh as a newly mowed lawn.

“Do you like it?” Merilee asked the moment Sidney walked in the door. “I called your friend Rita Sanderson, and she told me to go to this place in Brentwood. She says everyone goes there. Vidal somebody. I couldn’t get in without giving her name. Can you imagine?”

Sidney eyed his new bride sitting on the black leather sofa in front of the television console eating out of a box of Saltines. Crumbs camped out on the front of her T-shirt.

“I didn’t hear you, hon. I asked if you like it,” Merilee said without taking her eyes from the set.

“What’s not to like?” Sidney hated it. Now there would be no lovely ponytail swinging in the kitchen.

Not that Merilee had cooked once since moving in, not even a bagel. She preferred to order his housekeeper, Vi, to “butter me up a toasty one, wouldja, hon?” Vi (who I imagine did not cotton to orders from that same young waitress who used to serve her a tuna melt every Friday evening before she caught the bus) was threatening to quit.

What had happened? Those first weeks together were champagne brunches and sunsets on the shore, like something out of a movie. But from the moment they’d found out she was pregnant and went off to Vegas… Sidney sighed, set his briefcase on the table, and flopped down on the couch next to Merilee. He reached out and stroked her hair, his fingers plunging off the blunt ends.

“How are you feeling?” In consideration of her condition, I imagine Sidney made his voice extra kind.

“Well, I only barfed until noon today, and then I went to the salon. Did you pick up ginger ale?”

Sidney hadn’t. He still couldn’t get used to the idea that he was going to have a baby. So much had happened so fast. He needed a tennis game. A tough one, but one he could win.

“I’m sorry, Merilee, I didn’t. I’ll send Vi out. Or no, wait, I’ll go in a minute.”

She rolled her eyes like a teenager and sprang up. “Geez never mind, I’ll go myself.”

It seemed to Sidney that whenever he came home, Merilee sought a reason to get out of the house. Maybe she just loved driving the red convertible he’d bought as her wedding gift.

She snatched the saltines, scooped her keys off the front table, and walked out.