"And then she winds up dying herself, alone in a hospital room in New York at sixty-three years of age. Her worst nightmare."

"Everyone's worst nightmare."

"But this doesn't answer the question of why she slipped into obscurity," Harlan said. "She wrote wonderful poetry and fascinating fiction and helped found the Poetry Society of South Carolina. She traveled like mad, knew and ran around with all the important people of her day, and yet . . . you had no idea who she was. Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe poetry fell out of fashion and people started watching television? Maybe because she never got her movie made."

"And I think there was a general change in the taste of the public too. After World War II, Hollywood became more serious. All that Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire stuff seemed frivolous in light of the times. Maybe."

"It doesn't matter," I said. "I loved her writing."

We became quiet, and as soon as the music changed from the Four Tops to Vivaldi, Harlan put his head against the window and drifted off to sleep. I began to remember our childhood. While he dozed I wondered how many indignities my sweet brother had endured because of his sexual orientation. I remembered then how he was bullied in school and for the longest time I was too young to understand it. Once when I was about eight years old, some high school kid, Tommy Something, called Harlan a terrible name and I kicked him in his shins as hard as I could. That got me in hot water with everyone except my mother, who thought I was pretty wonderful to do it. After that, the kids at school never called Harlan names or teased him in front of me. But when I was pregnant with Bertie and had to marry Wes, well, after that Wes dictated every aspect of my life. I was glad I remembered then because it strengthened my resolve that leaving Wes was the only way to salvage what was left of me. I'd never ever be in that kind of a compromised position again.

At last we pulled into the drive of the Loews Hotel in Atlanta after crawling along in traffic and gave the car to the valet. We quickly registered, and the bellman took us up to our room. He opened the door for us and began turning on lights. We entered a large living room with a wet bar and a half bath. There was a beautiful sofa and two club chairs, a table with four chairs and a large flat-screen television. The bedroom had two queen-size beds and a beautiful low and long chest of drawers on which stood another television.

Harlan peeked in the bathroom and said, "There's a swimming pool in here."

I looked, and sure enough, the bathtub seemed like a small swimming pool to me too.

"Can I get y'all anything else?" the bellman said as he brought in our bags and placed them on luggage racks. "Ice?"

"No, we're fine," Harlan said and walked him to the living room door. I heard the door close and then Harlan called me. "Les? Come here!"

I walked out to the living room, and there on the coffee table was a vase of two dozen red roses packed to death with baby's breath.

"How did we miss this?" Harlan said.

"I'm afraid to ask, but is there a card?"

"Dare we open it?"

I took it from the plastic stick and opened it.

"It says, Meet me for a drink tonight? Love, Wes."

"He really went all out, didn't he?"

"Mother Machree," I said. "I guess I have to do this?"

"No, you don't," Harlan said. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do ever again."

"He's never sent me two dozen roses in my whole life."

"He's never had to give anybody this much money in his whole life either. I mean, I'm sorry to be so blunt, but . . ."

"No, no. You're right, Harlan. Whatever he has to say to me, he can say it over the phone."

"Absolutely. And you might remind him that this is better than going through lawyers. He knows that. In fact, this is such a transparent effort to get you back in his fat clammy hands, I'll even guess that he'll go along with whatever you propose. Watch. Call him right now and watch what happens."

My stomach cramped and I felt slightly nauseated. "What do I say?"

"Girl? Where's your spine? You just tell him that you're busy and what does he want to talk about, that we've got plans for tonight and that's it. Soooo, what's up, Wes?"

"Harlan? I love you but don't push me. But you're right. Damn it. I may as well do it and get it over with."

"That's the spirit! I'll be in the other room. Call me if you need me."

"Okay. Thanks." I reached into my purse, took out my cell phone, and thought, I really didn't ever want anyone to tell me what to do, but Harlan was right. I pressed in his number. Wes answered on the second ring.

"Leslie? Is that you?"

"Yes, Wes. It's me."

"Did you get the flowers?"

"Yes, thank you. You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Please! I just wanted to welcome you home, that's all. So where should we meet? Want to come by the club around six? We can get a nice corner table and talk about things."

I didn't say, This is no longer my home or The last thing I want is for you to put me in a corner ever again.

Instead I said, "Well, first of all, I have plans and as I told you the other day, there's really nothing to talk about, Wes. I've said all I have to say."

Harlan stuck his arm into the living room and gave me a thumbs-up gesture. Then he came in the room and whispered, "Is everything okay?" I shushed him away.

"But I haven't," Wesley said.

"You can tell me right here and now, Wesley."

"Well, it's just that . . . I don't know, Les. Things aren't the same without you."

"This is how it is now, Wes. I'm sorry, but this is how it is."

"Yeah, I know, but the difference is that I really miss you, Les. I do. In fact, it's become sort of stunning, this hole you left in my life when you walked out. I don't like it. I'm not happy."

"Well? I don't know what to say to you except I think for the sake of our old friends, we should attend this wedding as two civilized adults who love them. This weekend is not about us. It's about Danette and Harold and Molly. And I hate that this may sound so cold, but I think you need to write me a check or hire a lawyer. Sorry, Wes."

"I see. So, there's no, um, changing your mind? I mean, Les, have a heart."

"That's the whole problem, Wes. I do have one and you broke it."

"And there's nothing that can put it back together again?"

"Not that I know of, Wes. I'm sorry, but I'm really all done."

He didn't say anything.

"Wes? Wes?"

I heard silence. Wes had disconnected me.

"That son of a bitch," I said.

"I heard your every word," Harlan said rushing in. "You sounded very nice, given the stress of the situation. But what did he say?"

"It's not what he said but what was unsaid. He never apologized or said that he loved me. Not once." I felt so disgusted and abused.

"He's really a dope," Harlan said.

"Not exactly revelatory, Harlan. But why do you say that now?"

"Because for a woman like you who devoted her entire life to him and your children, that's about all he would have to say and there's a fair chance he might have won you back. That he doesn't know it makes him a huge dope."

I hated to admit it. Harlan was right. I might have gone home if Wes had only said he was sorry in the sober light of day and that he loved me. How pathetic was I?

"You don't understand, Harlan. Wes is never, ever wrong."

"Well, he sure is now," Harlan said.

"Yep," I said and burst into tears.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry! What did I say?"

"It's just sad, Harlan. It's not your fault. What you said is probably true. And it's going to cost him an awful lot not to love me."

"It can't cost him enough, if you ask me."

I smiled then. I smiled and thought how lucky I was to have Harlan and how lucky I was to have another chance to be happy.

"I'm going to take a shower," I said, "and then let's go out and paint the town."

"That sounds like an excellent idea."

While I showered, washing away the remnants of my conversation with Wes, I wondered how many married people were out there who hated each other but couldn't afford to get a divorce. They simply couldn't pay for two households. I'd bet there were more than a few. And would I really go back to Wes if he had said he was sorry and that he adored me? I decided it didn't matter anymore. If I ever went back, all the same problems I had with our marriage that made it unbearable would still be there waiting. Wes would still be so cheap he squeaked, there would be no romance, and he would never look me in the face and really like what he saw. He'd never value my intellect, humor, or resourcefulness. No, I had made the right decision. I was completely certain of it.

Over cocktails Harlan said, "Are you feeling better now?"

I said, "Harlan, the reason I got upset this afternoon was not because I'm sorry I left Wes or because I'm still in love with him or anything like that. It was because it's painful and embarrassing to realize how little affection I was willing to live with for all those years. I talk to him and it's more than a little startling that he thinks that tossing me a crumb will be a life-changing event for him."

"Well, he's going to regret losing you for the rest of his life."

"But he'll never know why it happened, Harlan. That's what bothers me about him. The crumbs bother me about myself."

"God, sister, you would've made the best psychoanalyst in the world."

"Thank you, brother, but I prefer to plan a trip to Italy."

"You know, Leslie? I have great admiration for you."

"Why's that?"

"Because you're smart, you're beautiful, and we know this but lately, I guess ever since you've made this momentous decision to redesign your life? Well, you seem like my kid sister again. And I've missed my kid sister something fierce. The one with the guts."

"Ha-ha," I said. "Y'all better look out, world! She's back."

"Good news for me! So tell me about tomorrow night."

"Danette is hosting the rehearsal party for Shawn's family. I imagine Harold will be there, definitely without Cornelia, and I think Danette said that her friend Nader is coming. That should be very interesting. But it's mostly out-of-town guests like us and the wedding party. So Charlotte will be there with Holly and I imagine Bertie too. I can only hope that Bertie will have washed."

"Hmmm. I never thought about it, but now I'm wondering how does one shampoo his dreadlocks?"

"I have no earthly idea. He must've cleaned up his act somewhat because he had a job interview this week."

"Well, let's hope it went all right."

We ate dinner at the hotel. I didn't feel like getting the car out and dealing with any more traffic, and Harlan didn't care where we ate. So we picked some appetizers from the bar menu and shared a bottle of wine.

"What's the dress code for tomorrow night?" Harlan asked.

"I spoke to Danette earlier just to let her know we're here. She's pretty excited. Sport coats for the boys and something nice for the ladies."

"And for the wedding?"

"Black tie. You brought your tuxedo, didn't you?"

"Of course. I hope you're not wearing that black dress again," he said.

"Why not? It cost a fortune!"

"Hello? So what? You're rich, remember? Let's go to Neiman's first thing tomorrow and buy you an outfit that will make Wes lose his mind!"

"Really? Oh, Harlan, who cares what he thinks?"

"I haven't given two hoots what Wes thought in a thousand years, but the part of you that wants to make him see the difference in you wants a new dress. And that's that."

"You know what? You're right!" I smiled, thinking I completely agreed.

By ten thirty the next morning I was standing in front of a mirror in a dressing room at Neiman Marcus trying on every even remotely appropriate dress in the store. By noon we had narrowed it down to three. A flesh-colored dress with bronze metallic trim that made me look naked, or so I thought. An aqua silk dress with silver beading that made me look like a mermaid. And a red crepe dress with cap sleeves and a sweetheart neck that I thought showed too much cleavage but made me feel like a movie star. It had a tight waist and a full skirt and reminded me of a Doris Day movie from the sixties.

"Les? I love the flesh-colored dress. It's dazzling! Dazzling is good."

"I think it's immoral," I said.

"Okay, then, how about the blue one? That color reminds me of the water around Bermuda. It's beautiful with your hair."

"It makes me feel old, like a great-grandmother."

"But you don't feel like a vamp in the red one?"