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thought, which surely is flattering. And then he wondered—naturally, any man would wonder—what she would be like … Anyway, it was unimportant, not worth thinking about.
    He had not planned to go home over the next weekend, not only because he had a ton of work, but also because the three-hour bus ride in this fierce late September heat was a misery. But now on the spur of the moment, he had a sudden painful longing for Lily, and he decided to go after all. He was vaguely troubled. He needed her.

CHAPTER THREE
1972–1973
    T hey had made all his favorite dishes for dinner: pea soup, roast duck, yams and greens, hot bread, and custard pie.
    â€œYou haven’t lost your appetite, I see,” remarked Mrs. Webster, waiting for the praise that was her due.
    â€œCertainly not for your cooking,” Robb said.
    â€œStay around here, and you can have a Sunday dinner like this every week of your life.”
    He smiled in reply. She was waiting for definite information, which he was not ready to give. Most certainly he was not going to practice solo law in this little place; he had seen other ways and had, as was said, “expanded his horizons.” He wasn’t going to settle minor disputes in a rural town for the rest of his days, worthy as such a career was. But it was not for him.
    â€œI suppose you’ll be making your plans pretty soon. It’s not far from September to May. It is May, isn’t it, your graduation?”
    â€œYes, May twenty-seventh.”
    Her voice nagged at him. She was a good woman, but the timbre of her nasal voice, let alone the things she said, could sometimes set his teeth on edge. He was tense to begin with these days.
    He had, fortunately, several choices to make from a rather gratifying list of offers. Good firms in various parts of the country had expressed an interest in him, but the problem was that he had never really traveled before and a single trip, an hour or two at an office in the middle of some urban wilderness, could tell almost nothing about what it would mean to work and live there.
    â€œMay twenty-seventh. It will be here before you know it.”
    Quietly, Lily said, “We know that, Mother.”
    He wondered whether Mrs. Webster had been pressuring Lily. It would not be unthinkable if she had. Parents wanted to see their children “settled,” not merely standing on the verge of something. Lily had been waiting a long time for real life to begin. What kind of existence was it, after all, for a bright young woman to work all day in a library among women and children, then come home to spend the evening with her mother? Hanging around, that’s what it was. A long, patient hanging around. Hanging out. Hanging in there. The silly word kept shaping and reshaping itself on his tongue.
    â€œI’d like to know, I think you should tell me—oh, not this minute, but before too long—what your plans are. About your wedding, I mean, whether you wantsomething here in town, or maybe up where you are, Robb? You must have made a great many friends up there.”
    â€œThat’s Lily’s decision,” he replied, turning to Lily. “Weddings are women’s business. I don’t care how we do it, as long as we do it.”
    And they looked across the table into each other’s eyes. They were both frustrated today. It had been a stupid mistake on his part to come here where they had no privacy except the privacy of a walk outdoors, which hardly served their need. They should have met halfway, at the motel. He was exasperated with himself.
    Lily’s cheeks were pale. He thought she looked tired. Perhaps it was not so much physical tiredness as mental dullness. And a totally unrelated picture sprang to his mind: right about now, at four o’clock, they were having the barbecue. Eddy would be telling one of his ridiculous tall tales; the new bride with the diamond ring would be next to her husband;