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And she hadn't put away her and Daddy's wedding picture! The two of them were still there, encased in that solid gold frame, both looking young and happy, Momma so beautiful, Daddy so handsome and distinguished.

The word "divorce" had such a mystical ring to it for me.

I had half imagined that now that Momma had gotten a divorce from Daddy, the house itself had undergone some enchantment as if divorce put us all in the grip of some sorceress. The house would be different; the servants would be different; Momma and Daddy would certainly be different; and I . . . I was still afraid of how I would change.

I started out of Momma's suite, but stopped in the sitting room when something on Momma's desk caught my eye. It looked like a pile of books containing samples from a printing company. We had nothing to celebrate soon, no birthdays, and certainly, no anniversaries now. What was Momma doing: planning to announce her divorce? I approached the desk and opened the first book of samples.

At first it made no sense at all, but my heart understood faster than my mind, for it began to thump so hard, it took my breath away. The pounding sounded like thunder in my mind. I choked back my tears, tears that had been threatening to burst fort

h from the moment I entered my house, and I continued to thumb through the books. They were all the same.

They were all samples of wedding invitations!

six A NEW BEST FRIEND

. Momma didn't come home for hours. I went up to my room and waited and waited until I heard her entering the house. Her laughter preceded her footsteps on the stairway. I couldn't imagine how or why she would be in such a jolly mood. The world was crumpling around us and her voice rang out with a musical cadence as if it were Christmas morning or the morning of her birthday. I stepped out of my room just as she reached the top of the stairway.

She looked just as beautiful as ever, if anything her beauty had flourished since she had left Daddy and me. She seemed invigorated, full of life and energy, her eyes sparkling, her soft, golden hair glistening under the white fur cap. She was wearing her white mink coat, the one Daddy had imported from Russia. Her cheeks were rosy, having been caressed by the crisp November air. I didn't realize until I saw her how much I had wanted to see her sickly and pale, ravaged by the decision she had made.

Her burst of exuberance and her brightness overwhelmed me. I could just stand and stare. But Momma's face wasn't drawn, her eyes weren't bloodshot, she instead looked like someone who had been liberated from a dark and dismal castle dungeon, unchained and free to be young and lovely and alive once more. She misunderstood my look of surprise and sadness.

"Oh Leigh, I'm so sorry I wasn't here when you arrived, but you'd never believe the traffic." She smiled as if she expected me to forget everything horrible instantly.

"Why didn't you come down to the dock? Where were you?"

"Where was I? I was at Farthy," she sang and

started for her suite. "You know how undependable

those dockings can be . . . half hour late, an hour late.

Something's always going wrong. I could just

envision myself stuck in that stuffy automobile,

waiting, waiting, waiting." She turned back to flash a

quick smile. "I didn't think you would mind and it's so

much nicer out at the seashore today," she said as she

took off her hat and coat. "There, the sky is all blue,"

she added and threw her fur coat over one of the

Rococo chairs. "But it's always blue there to me, even

when it's gray," she whispered, making her sentence

sound like the words from a love song.

Then, still wearing her fur cap, she fell back

over her bed and flung her arms to her sides as she

bounced on the mattress. I had never seen her so

cheerful. She seemed years younger, more like one of