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with us. I saw Maddie’s face crinkle up as she pushed as hard as she could. Just when I thought we needed to call someone to help us, the car popped forward and onto the road.
    We stopped for the night at another motel. After our mother fell asleep, my sisters and I took some change from her purse and walked to a nearby pay phone. Lakey dialed her father under the glare of the booth lights. The fields beyond were black. There were no streetlights and no traffic lights. A light fog blurred the darkness and the moonless sky. Far in the distance someone appeared to be shining a flashlight on a barn surrounded by looming trees. Darkness again as the flashlight was turned off. Even the motel we were staying at had hardly any lights, just a little night-light in the office and a streetlamp near the phone booth.
    â€œDad?” I heard Lakey say. Her face was intent. Before she could speak, she began crying and dropped the receiver. Marilyn held her as I picked up the phone.

    â€œHi, it’s Shelby,” I said. “Lakey wanted to talk to you. I think she wanted to tell you she loves you.”
    â€œI love her,” he said. “I love all of you crazy girls.”
    â€œWill you write us letters still?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWill you love us even if we’re not there?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWill you love our mother?”
    He hesitated, and I heard static on the phone for a moment. “That’s more complicated, isn’t it?” he said. His voice choked for a moment. “I’ll tell you, it’s hard.”
    I couldn’t think what to say. “She had fun bowling,” I said.
    Then I just stood there. He didn’t talk. I didn’t talk. Lakey continued to cry in Marilyn’s arms. Maddie pressed against me.
    â€œWhat are you girls doing up?” he finally said.
    â€œWhat time is it?”
    â€œIt’s one a.m. out here.”
    â€œI guess it’s three out here. I think so. We’re in Nebraska.”
    The operator clicked on and asked for more money.
    â€œDid you hear that?” I said desperately.

    But there was another click, and he was gone.
    My sisters and I sat outside our room. I thought, I should have given him the phone booth number so he could call us back. I thought, Other men love my mother because she’s beautiful, but he loves her because underneath her glitz, she’s just a person full of life, like him. He liked wild things. But our mother couldn’t be contained.
    When we got back to Chicago, we sat on the steps outside our apartment to powwow. Our mother was busy inside, spreading mud all over her face and body.
    â€œHow can we get them married?” Lakey said.
    â€œMom doesn’t want to get married,” Marilyn said.
    Maddie said knowingly, “She has bigger fish to fry.”
    The air was cool for summer, almost brisk. I sat up and looked at Marilyn, “Why doesn’t she want to get married?” I said.
    Nobody answered at first, and then Maddie—of all people—said, “She doesn’t know how.” And I knew that was true.
    Marilyn added, “She knows how to get married, but she doesn’t know how to stay married. I think she’s been married three or four times.”
    â€œI thought she was married twice,” I said. “Once before we were born and once afterward.”

    â€œWell, whatever,” Marilyn said. “But they must have been pretty bad, because none of the marriages lasted long. One was to an actor.”
    â€œAn actor?” I said. “Like in the movies?”
    Marilyn nodded. “He’s not famous anymore, but he was.”
    â€œWhat’s his name?” I said.
    â€œGrant Tustin.”
    â€œI never heard of him.”
    â€œHe starred in a Western once that made a lot of money. Mom worked as his wife’s nanny and then ended up marrying him after he and his wife got divorced. Mom says never to hire a nanny prettier