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brought it, they began the undeclared waiting game to see which of them would take the first sip, confirming for the other, like a canary in a coal mine, that the coffee wasn’t poisoned, or the cream a host to ptomaine. It was a battle of nerves: Whose desire to drink still-warm coffee would first overcome his embarrassment at death in a public place?
    Ginny lifted her cup and slurped, pretending to sip. The Major wasn’t fooled. He shifted his lanky frame in the chair and stirred some cream into his coffee. To buy time, Ginny dumped a spoonful of sugar into her heavy white cup and asked, “What does Mother think about the house’s being on the market?” Ginny knew what her mother thought, even though they hadn’t talked about it: Her mother thought that the Major knew best — in all things.
    â€œShe agrees with me that the cabin is big enough for the two of us. We just rattle around in that white elephant And it doesn’t look as though you or the boys are going to want it.”
    In a diversionary maneuver, the Major removed a bottle from his suit jacket, unscrewed the lid, and took out two small white pills. These he popped into his mouth and downed with half a glass of water.
    Watching him, Ginny unthinkingly took a sip of her coffee. Realizing too late what she’d done, she held the liquid in her mouth, trying to decide whether or not to return it unswallowed to the cup. Overcome finally by curiosity, she swallowed. As they both waited for her collapse, she asked, “What were those?”
    â€œCoumadin,” he answered blandly.
    â€œCoumadin?”
    â€œCoumadin.”
    â€œWhat is Coumadin?”
    â€œAn anticoagulant,” he mumbled, averting his eyes.
    â€œFor your heart?” He nodded yes, glumly. “What’s wrong with your heart?”
    â€œNothing. Just a little heart attack.”
    â€œHeart attack?” she shouted. “When?”
    â€ Last month.”
    â€œWhy wasn’t I told?”
    â€œIt was nothing. I was just working too hard. I was in bed less than a week.” He took a big drink of his coffee. A look of annoyance crossed his face because it was cool by now.
    Ginny felt a great upsurge of anxiety. Sweat broke out on her forehead. She had difficulty breathing. So — the coffee was poisoned after all, and she was to meet her long-expected end here on the linoleum floor of this airport luncheonette. Her mother had always warned her to wear her best underwear when leaving the house, since one never knew when one might end up in the emergency room. But had Ginny listened? Of course not. And now here she was facing Eternity with safety pins holding up her bra straps.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” the Major asked uneasily.
    â€œNothing,” she replied bravely. And soon her symptoms abated, and her seizure assumed the proportions of a normal bout of separation anxiety, a malady she was intimately acquainted with. The house up for sale and the Major on the brink of a heart attack. Yes, those were valid grounds for a seizure.
    â€œHow long will you be gone?” she asked faintly.
    â€œTwo weeks,” he replied with a wide smile. He went on business trips to Boston like a sailor going on shore leave after months of deprivation on the high seas.
    â€œBusiness?”
    â€œMostly. I don’t know if I told you — we’re thinking of moving to Boston.”
    Scandalized, Ginny looked at him quickly. “How could you? This is our home.”
    â€œNot mine it isn’t. I’ve always hated this town. You know that. I intended to stay here just a year, as part of my training for a job in Boston. But then I met your mother, who couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Hullsport. Though God only knows why.”
    â€œBut how could you just forfeit thirty-five years of memories?” Ginny wailed, knowing the incredible difficulty she experienced in letting go of anything out of her past, however