Binky was present when he said this, and she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Me too, sweetheart,” she told him.

Delia grew suddenly conscious of her own separateness-of her upright posture, her elbows pressed primly against her sides in an armchair all to herself.

Then it was summer, warm and green and buzzing with cicadas after a long, cool spring. School came to an end, and Noah started sleeping late and hanging around the house with his friends and complaining of boredom. Joel switched to vacation hours and was home by midafternoon. In the maple tree out back, a woodpecker couple built themselves a nest. Delia could hear their cries from time to time-high-pitched, excited squawks that reminded her of girls’-school girls attending their first mixed party. And on Highway 50, more and more cars sped toward the beach, their rooftops spinning with bicycle wheels, their back seats stuffed with children, their rear window ledges a coagulation of sand shovels, rubber flippers, and Utz potato chip cartons.

Would Delia’s family be going to the beach themselves? she wondered. It was June, after all. It was a year since she had left them, although it seemed much longer. She had, by now, done everything at least once-observed a birthday alone as well as Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s. Paid her income taxes (married filing separately). Registered to vote. Taken the cat to the vet. She was a bona fide citizen of Bay Borough.

Then a letter arrived from Susie.

The envelope bore the correct address, which meant that Susie must have consulted Eliza or Eleanor. The handwriting was so rounded that Borough resembled a row of balloons anchored by a single string. Delia lifted the flap almost stealthily, unsealing it rather than tearing it, as if this would soften the impact of whatever waited inside.

Hi Mom!

Just a quick note to fill you in! How you doing? Thanx for the graduation card! Commencement was kind of a drag but Tucky Pearson gave the most awesome party afterwards at her family’s horse farm!

Nothing special to report except Dad is being so-o-o-o difficult right now! I know you’ll see my side of things so could you maybe phone him and have a talk? Don’t tell him I asked you to call-just say you got a letter from me and thought you should discuss my plans. You wouldn’t believe how mean he’s being! Or maybe you would! Honestly Mom sometimes I don’t even blame you for going! See ya!

Luv, Susie

Delia had a sudden sense of exhaustion. She refolded the letter and put it back in the envelope.

Well.

She couldn’t phone from the house. She didn’t want the call appearing on Joel’s bill. Nor did she want to reverse the charges, which would give an impression of needfulness. So first she had to scrounge through her handbag and various pockets for change, and then she had to walk to the pay phone at Bay and Weber Streets, a block and a half away. She walked as fast as her ankle allowed, because if she made her call between eleven-thirty and twelve, she had a better chance of reaching Sam directly. He always broke for lunch then. Unless, in her absence, things had altered more than she had predicted.

Inside the booth-just one of those above-the-waist, partially enclosed affairs that let in every traffic sound-she lined up her coins on the shelf and then dialed the grown-ups’ number. She had never called long distance from a pay phone before, and she was distressed to find that she had to wait to deposit the coins till her party answered. First the phone at the other end rang twice, then Sam said, “Dr. Grinstead,” and then a recording issued instructions and Delia dropped her quarters in. Whang! Whang! It was humiliating-very nearly as bad as calling collect, and made worse by the fact that Sam didn’t grasp what was going on. “Hello?” he kept saying. “Is anyone there?”

His deep, level voice, his habit of slanting downward even on questions.

Delia said, “Sam?”

“Where are you?” he asked immediately.

He assumed this was a plea for help, she realized. He thought she was admitting defeat-calling to say, “Come get me.” He must have been expecting it for months. She stood straighter. “I’m calling about Susie,” she told him.

A dead silence. Then: “Oh. Susie.”

“I wonder if you know what’s troubling her.”

“I believe my feeble brain can encompass that much,” he said icily. “But I suppose you’re going to tell me anyhow, aren’t you.”

“What?” Delia pressed her fingers to her forehead. “No, wait-I mean I’m honestly asking! She wrote me there was some problem, but she didn’t say what it was.”

“Oh,” Sam said again. Another silence. “Well,” he said, “this would have to do with her wedding, I suspect.”

“Susie’s getting married?”

“She wants to. I’m opposed.”

“But-” Delia said. But she didn’t talk to me about this! she wanted to protest. Didn’t even consult me! Unreasonable, she knew; so she changed it to, “But Driscoll’s a very nice boy. It is Driscoll, isn’t it?”

“Who else,” Sam said. “However, that’s not the issue. She can marry whoever she chooses, of course, but I told her she’ll have to live on her own for one calendar year beforehand.”

“A year! Why?”

“I hate to see her jumping straight from school to marriage. From her father’s house to her husband’s house.”

Her father’s house? He hated to see? How about her mother? Oh, all right… but her husband’s house?

And the biggest offense of all: what he meant was, he didn’t want Susie turning out like Delia. Who had never spent so much as a night on her own before she married; and just look at the results.

He’d been mulling that over all year, she supposed. Arriving at his own private theory.

“But if she lives alone,” Delia said, “she’ll be so… unprotected. And also she and Driscoll might… I mean, what if they end up, um, sleeping together or something like that?”

“Don’t you suppose they already sleep together, Delia?”

Her mouth dropped open.

A taped voice said metallically, “To continue your call, please deposit another-”

“Hold on, I’m going to try to get these charges reversed,” Sam told Delia.

She didn’t argue. She was trying to reassemble her thoughts. Well, no doubt they did sleep together. On some level, she’d probably known that. Still, she felt bereft. She pictured herself waving goodbye while Susie and Driscoll dwindled into the distance, never once looking back.

“You know she doesn’t have a job yet,” Sam said when he’d dealt with the operator.

“I wondered about that.”

Amazing, how easy it was to fall back into this matter-of-fact, almost chatty exchange of information. The ordinariness of it struck her as surreal.

“She sleeps till all hours,” he was saying, “and then heads off to the swimming pool. No interviews set up, no mention of careers…”

But if she’s getting married, Delia thought. That too, though, she censored. She asked, “How about Driscoll? Does he have a job?”

“Yes, he’s hired on with his father.”

Delia tried to think what Driscoll’s father did, but she couldn’t remember. Something businessy. She said, “Well, have you and Susie talked about this? Discussed what kind of work might interest her?”

“No,” Sam said.

“And where could she afford to live? I mean, if she isn’t earning money yet.”

“We haven’t gone into that,” Sam said.

“Well, golly, Sam, what have you gone into?”

“Nothing,” Sam said. He gave a slight cough. “It appears that we’re not speaking.”

Delia sighed. She said, “How about Eliza? I know Susie must talk to her.”

“Not necessarily,” Sam said.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think they do talk, to tell the truth.”

“They had a fight?”

“I’m not sure. Well, they did, I guess, but I’m not sure if it’s still on or not. Actually, Eliza is out of town right now.”

“Out of town!”

“She’s visiting Linda awhile.”