up this story. You fill in the blanks.”
“Why add more lying to your list of crimes?”
“I’m not lying.”
“You lie so well, you believe yourself.” Savannah drained her glass and moved to the bar cart for a refill.
“You’ve used that line before.”
“Because it’s true.”
“I’m not going to be held responsible for some silliness you overheard from a woman you’ve never met. You’ve spun this entire scenario out of thin air. Like you always do.”
“I saw what I saw. I’m not crazy, Price.”
“The jury’s still out on that.”
She whirled around. “How dare you.”
“I’m not going to fight with you anymore tonight,” Price rose from his chair. “You’re drunk. Go to bed, Savannah. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Where are you going?”
“Out. I have some business to attend to. Some people in this family have to work.”
“Out?” She screamed the word. “At this hour? You’re getting sloppy, Price. You’re not even trying to cover your tracks.”
Price looked coolly at her, “I have nothing to cover.”
“What makes you think I’ll be here when you get back?”
“Feel free to leave anytime you like.” Price was utterly composed in the face of her torment.
“I’ve had enough, Price. I want a divorce.” Words that had been hanging like a pendulum swung free. Slicing through seventeen years with one clean cut. She might have been knocked to her knees earlier in the evening, but she was on up on her hind legs now. And she was fierce. A force to be reckoned with. A volcano in a high heels.
She was shaking, but through the anger her thoughts crystallized. Her marriage played out before her eyes. Every word that had been said leading up to this defining moment. Every look. Every whisper. Every lie, an omen. Perfectly exposed. Illuminated. She walked around each incident, seeing it from every angle.
Never had her thoughts been so clear. She was at once out of control, and in complete command. She was both in the moment and standing outside herself
“You want a divorce? You got it.” Price walked up to her, ice in his eyes. “Be careful what you wish for. Don’t think for a minute you’re taking my children with you. I’ve kept my part of the bargain.”
“Bargain?” Savannah was incredulous.
“Yes.” Price said. “I’ve provided you with a beautiful home and the country club life. You’re the toast of Savannah society.”
“More like the talk of Savannah society. Good God, Price, listen to yourself. This is a marriage. Not a contract for you to manipulate and score points against your opponent in rounds of negotiations. I don’t even know you anymore.”
“Save it for your attorney. And he better be a good one. You’re unfit to be a mother. Count on this—you’ll never have those kids.”
He walked towards the front door as if he were merely leaving to get the Sunday paper, while behind him Savannah screamed at the top of her lungs.
“Get the hell out of my life. I hate you!” She hurled her glass at his departing back, but it hit the wall instead, shattering into a thousand pieces.
“Daddy,” Angela called after the slamming door.
Savannah turned to see her children and Neenie at the top of the stairs. The screaming had obviously drawn everyone from their beds. Collateral damage gathered around the bomb site in their pajamas.
Angela was sobbing, PJ had his arm around her shoulders.
“Go back to bed,” Savannah ordered, unable to deal with anything else. She grabbed her coat, purse and a bottle of vodka. She picked her way through the broken glass and slammed the door behind her so hard it rattled in its frame. She’d already woken her family. She wasn’t concerned if she woke up the entire neighborhood with the squealing of tires as she peeled out of the driveway.
“S avannah, Honey, wake up.” Neenie was shaking her shoulders.
Savannah rolled over, one eye open and squinting into the late morning light. “What? I can’t
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