There were four kids, still enjoying the backyard pool, ranging in age from five to twelve. Her brothers each had a boy and a girl. The food was wonderful, the day passed with everyone in great spirits and the proposed union of Dysart and Lacoumette was heartily and genuinely approved.

It was late in the day when everyone was cleaning up and packing up to say their goodbyes that Sue took Ginger aside. She pulled her around the corner of the family room of Richard’s large house. They stood in a dimly lit hallway and Sue said, “I don’t want to do this but I won’t keep secrets from you. Mick got in touch with me. He doesn’t know where you are, which I believe is what you want. He says he’s in a crisis and needs to talk to you. It’s urgent, he says, and you’re the only person who will understand, who can help him, and he asked me to have you call him.”

“What kind of crisis?” she asked.

Sue shook her head. “I don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me another thing.”

“Is he sick?”

“He wouldn’t say. Your father is angry—he told me not to tell you anything about it. But I won’t lie. What if he just wants money?”

“Mom, I’m not going to give Mick money. I’m a slow learner but I’m not that slow.”

“Thank God,” Sue said. “Then you won’t call him?”

“Of course I’ll call him. Nothing is ever urgent with him—unless he wants to tell someone that he just got a personal call from Bruce Springsteen. But you know Mick would’ve told you that. I’ll find out what he wants. I’m sure it’ll be a simple matter to tell him to go away, that I don’t care about his plans or his concerts, that I’m not giving him anything, that I’m no longer in any way attached to him.”

“Don’t call him, Ginger!” Sue said. “Don’t even tempt fate.”

“Mom, I’m not the simple idiot I was when I was with Mick. He can’t threaten me or manipulate me anymore. Maybe he wants to make amends. That would be positive. Closure would be good. But I’ll make sure he’s not dying.”

“What if he is dying?” Sue asked.

“Still,” Ginger said. “I would be sorry to hear that but we’re not together and we haven’t been for a long time.”

“Don’t, Ginger. Don’t talk to him.”

“I’m not afraid of him, Mom. I’ll call him. I’ll give him as much as ten minutes.”

Suddenly there was Matt, standing in the hallway. Looming in the hallway, bigger somehow. Broader. His face scowling. It was Mad Matt.

“No,” he said. “No.”

Sixteen

Ginger wouldn’t let Matt say any more while in her brother’s house. Once they were in his truck she turned in her seat to stare at him. He was still frowning.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“What?” he asked, but his expression was angry. He knew. Damn it, he knew!

“You tell me no? No, I can’t return a call if I choose to? Seriously?”

“To your ex-husband? The man who ripped your heart out without a second thought?” he asked. “Yes, I’m serious!”

She thought maybe he was driving a little faster, his hands gripping the wheel. “We’ll talk about this when we get back to your apartment,” she said.

It was a quick trip back to Matt’s home. It was a perfectly adequate one-bedroom apartment but there were obvious reasons why he wasn’t comfortable there. For one thing, once his wife had taken what she wanted, he hadn’t bothered to replace much. The bedroom set, a very masculine and heavy bed and dressers, he had purchased for himself after the apartment was nearly emptied of furniture. He had a TV and sectional but all the things that made a house a home were missing. There was one picture on one wall, the other walls blank but sporting the nails pictures had hung on. There was one bedroom lamp, one living room lamp, there were no accents or throws or plants or baskets of papers or magazines. There was a bookshelf filled with only the books he might care about—agriculture and science-related textbooks. They hadn’t spent much time there, hadn’t prepared any real meals there, but she’d been there long enough to notice dishes and glassware were not in great supply.

It was a home that had been abandoned and he had done nothing to make it his. He hadn’t really tried to wipe out the past and start from scratch.

She tossed her purse on the sofa and sat down. “Tell me why you’re so angry,” she said.

“Do you really have to ask me?” he said. “You’re going to get in touch with the slimeball who put you through so much!”

“You’re pacing,” she said. “Please stop. Please sit down and talk to me.”

He sat, but he wasn’t happy about it. “Ginger, he’s not worth your time.”

“I completely agree,” she said. “There’s absolutely no threat in asking him what’s so urgent. I don’t love him, Matt. I don’t even like him very much anymore. Do you trust me? Do you believe I won’t lie to you? Because I won’t lie to you. I love you.”

He reached for her hand. “I want you to hate him,” he said. Simple and straightforward.

“There’s a part of me that does hate him. At least I resent what he did.”

“He used you!”

“I think you’re right. And I let him. In fact, I nearly invited him to use me. I’m never going to let that happen to me again. What are you afraid of? That I’ll give him a kidney?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised...”

“Oh, Matt,” she said, a slight chuckle coming out of her in spite of it all. “If you like, I’d be happy for you to listen to the conversation. I’ll call him from your phone and you can listen in.”

“Why? Just tell me why? You don’t owe him anything!”

“Not for him,” she said. “For me! Matt, I want to be finished with Mick but not bitter. We were wrong for each other and that might’ve been more my fault than his.”

“You excuse him! Over and over!”

“No!” she said. “No, I don’t excuse his behavior! I don’t know how he lives with himself. But I’m not going to carry hate into our future. I made quite a few misjudgments with Mick. I shouldn’t have married him in the first place and I never should have tricked myself into thinking an innocent baby would change our relationship.”