"Look. My life as I've known it and lived it for the past ten years has changed, Sheila. Can't you try to understand how this might feel?"

"You know how many times me and Paul split up? How many hotels and motels I've dragged these kids to over the years? So don't tell me anything about breaking up your life. Besides, you don't have any kids. So the only person you have to worry about is Savannah."

"So does having a hysterectomy and not being able to have children make me selfish?"

"I bet you don't even know my kids' names."

"From the sound of it, you probably don't either. Even on the back of their school pictures you put their nicknames!"

"It's what everybody calls them."

"What is GoGo's real name, by the way?"

"JaQuan."

"How on earth do you get GoGo out of JaQuan and why couldn't you simply call all five of them by their real names?"

"Six. Because they like their nicknames. Everybody does. It tells you who they really are or what they're like. GoGo used to run everywhere when he was little. Wouldn't walk anywhere. And he hasn't changed. So his name fits him to a tee. Now Bean Head-"

"I get it, Sheila. Anyway, this is just one more reason why I would feel weird having your son in my home for how long?"

"Two or three short weeks."

"I don't know him!"

"You can get to know him. First, you need to be under the same roof and then in the same room with him. Eat at the same table and look at each other. He can talk about anything. He was getting nothing but As until he started smoking that stuff. Anyway, he's a nice young man who just needs to get away from these thugs for a minute so he can see there's a better way to live. That's all I'm asking, Savannah. This ain't for me. It's for GoGo."

"What are you doing right now, Sheila?"

"Why?"

"I'm just curious. If you're busy."

"We getting ready to go to the drive-in."

"The what?"

"The drive-in. We take the van. Just in case you forgot, I only got two kids left at home-well, if you wanna count Bisquit-since him and his wife are on and off from one week to the next. You know they got two kids now."

"No, I didn't. I also didn't know they still had drive-ins."

"They do here. We love going. As soon as the weather change from spring to summer, we there. I fry chicken and we take potato salad and baked beans and put our drinks in a cooler and we spray ourselves with Off! and get our lounge chairs and just chill. Just like we did when we were little kids. Remember?"

"I remember." I sure wish I could go with them. I'm curious if they have them here in Phoenix. I would love to sit in my truck-well, it's an SUV-and recline the seat, eat a hot dog with relish and mustard and some soft French fries and slurp it down with a Diet Pepsi. I'm going to look into this. "Anyway, Sheila, does GoGo really want to come out here or are you forcing him?"

"He's excited. Unfortunately, he's only been as far as Philly and New York City on a field trip. Boston doesn't count. He has never been on a airplane, which is my fault, but you know paychecks can only go so far when you trying to clothe and feed six growing kids and a greedy-ass husband. GoGo is not a hoodlum. He will not steal from you. He is respectful. I'm telling you, he can fix anything that's broke around your house and he knows how to give tune-ups-even on foreign cars."

"Just give me a few days to figure this out, Sheila. Seriously. I'm not trying to be funny or anything. There are a lot of things I'm trying to do right now, and that's making it hard for me to think."

"Have you seen Isaac since he's been gone?"

"Once."

"And what happened?"

"We talked."

"Do you still hate his guts?"

"I never hated him. He pissed me off. I just wish he had closed one door before he opened another one."

"Most men do it this way. Because they don't know what to do on their own. Anyway, don't you miss him?"

"No."

"Stop lying."

"Well, it was a stupid question, Sheila. Of course I do, sometimes. But it seems logical to miss somebody you've lived with for ten years. Look, I'm going to have to go. Anything else you want to tell me?"

"Did you hear about Luther Vandross?"

"What about him?"

"He died."

"When?"

"Today."

"What's today's date?"

"It's Friday, July first, 2005, Savannah."

"It can't be." I cannot believe this date has slipped up on me like this, and even though I'm saddened to hear this about Luther, today is also the day my divorce is final. I cannot fucking believe this. Just like that. I'm not married anymore. And here I am in the grocery store. I don't feel like sharing this with Sheila right now.

"Time flies for all of us. Anyway, sis, I just want you to be happy when you get right down to it. And if Isaac can't make your lights come on anymore, somebody else just might."

"Okay, so back to GoGo because I'm at the checkout and I need to get home."

"Slow down, damn. Why are you in such a hurry all of a sudden? Anyway, I told you this is a non-refundable ticket and we don't have the kind of money to be throwing it out the window so if you don't want GoGo to come, maybe I will. I could use a break. Think about it and let me know. Send me an e-mail. Love you. Bye."

The thought of Sheila coming out here made my heart race. I think I'd take GoGo-whoever he is-over her, which is pretty sad to admit. I suppose we're a lot alike when it gets right down to it. We are our mother's daughters. Right now I can't believe I'm officially free to do anything I want. Go anywhere I want. With whom-ever I want. Or I can do nothing at all. And I don't have to answer to anybody. I've been so busy thinking about my future and now it's here.

My cart is full of all kinds of fattening stuff I should never have even considered buying. Who am I fooling? And what does Sheila know about what I do and don't do at my job? I have worked hard over the years to produce shows I-and apparently my bosses-considered compelling and thought-provoking. She sounds a lot like Isaac. You can't even think about solving problems if you pretend like they don't exist. I just try to paint an accurate picture and put it out there. It's not like my ratings are through the roof, but I did get an award. I've even been asked to speak to junior and high school kids about teen pregnancy in November. I didn't feel like telling Sheila. In fact, I haven't told anybody. What's the point?

Sheila knows how to get under my skin. She also knows how to dish it out but she can't take it. Family members are the only ones who seem to be good at this. She's one of the main reasons I've sent Mama tickets to come out here to visit instead of going back there so much. The way Sheila's been struggling for the past twenty-odd years breaks my heart. She has settled for so little, it's like she never had any dreams.

My cell phone vibrates in my hand. It's Isaac. "Hello," I say like I'm a detective or something.

"Hey, Savannah. Sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you could do me a big favor."

"I've already done it."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you know what today is?"

"Yeah, it's July first."

"And?"

"We are officially divorced. You couldn't possibly have forgotten, Isaac."

"Actually, I didn't want to think about it. So, should I congratulate you?"

"Whatever. But since this obviously isn't the reason you called, what's going on?" I have to remind myself that he is not my husband and I am not his wife.

"Is there any way you could possibly lend me two or three-preferably, three-thousand dollars until I get the settlement?"

"Don't tell me you've got a gambling problem now, too?"

"Of course not."

"Have you moved to Vegas or what?"

"Not yet. I decided to wait awhile."

"So what's the problem?"

"Well, business has been extremely slow. Materials are going up. Gas prices affect everything, Savannah. I've had to lay off a few workers, and there's only so much Enrique and Jose and I can do between us."

"You mind telling me what you need it for?"

"I'm behind on a few bills."

"And this is my problem?"

"Of course it isn't. If it wasn't serious, Savannah, you know I wouldn't be asking you-under the circumstances."

"Why can't you borrow it from your girlfriend?"

"She doesn't have it like that."

"What makes you so sure I have an extra three grand to lend you, or anybody for that matter?"

"Savannah, do you know who you're talking to?"

"I know you were the man I was married to for ten years, you mean him?"

"That's me. I thought we agreed to be friendly."

"Lending money to your ex-husband on the day he becomes your ex-is that how you measure friendliness?"

"No."

"I never said I wanted to be your BFF. Be glad I don't hate your guts."

"I am glad."

"To be quite honest, I think you have a lot of fucking nerve putting me on the spot like this, considering today is the day we're no longer husband and wife and I did you a favor by even waiting to make it official. I haven't heard a peep out of you for months and you still want something from me."

"My attorney suggested I lie low to give you a chance to get used to your new life."

"What new life?"

"The one without me in it."

If only he knew. "Speaking of which, how's yours?"

"I'm adjusting."

"So if I agreed to do this, Isaac, how would I get it to you?"

"Could you leave a check in the mailbox?"

"You mean at my house?"

"How many mailboxes do you have these days?"

"The same old one."

"If it's a problem . . . wait, have you got somebody living with you already?"

"Please, Isaac. It's been six months, but unlike you I like to wait until I finish one thing before I start something else."

"Ouch. Even though it's not the way you think it is."

"Whatever. Look, it's all water under the bridge, and you know good and well that whatever her name is wasn't the reason we parted company."

"No, she wasn't. So, how do you want to do this?"

"First tell me how you intend to pay me back."

"You can deduct it from the settlement."

"The check is going directly to you. You should be getting it fairly soon now. Can I trust you to pay me back when you get it?"

"Of course you can. And thank you, Savannah. You're a lifesaver."