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of exasperation, “what precisely would that be?”
    Sally considered what she was going to say before saying it, a lawyer’s cautiousness. “It seemed, I don’t know, possessive. And perhaps a bit manic. You know, the If I can’t have you, no one can sort of thing. I think he was reading too much into it.”
    Hope nodded. She chose her own words carefully. “You’re probably right. Of course,” she added slowly, “wouldn’t it be a greater error in judgment to underestimate a letter like that?”
    “You think Scott was right to be worried?”
    “I didn’t say that. I said that ignoring something is rarely an answer to a question.”
    Sally smiled. “Now you sound like a guidance counselor.”
    “I am a guidance counselor. So it probably isn’t all that crazy that upon occasion I actually sound like one.”
    Sally paused. “I didn’t mean for this to be an argument.”
    Hope nodded. “Of course.” She wasn’t sure that she agreed with this, but it was a much safer thing to say.
    “It seems, sometimes, that every time Scott’s name comes up, when we’re talking, that we end up arguing about one thing or another,” Sally said. “Even after all these years.”
    Hope shook her head. “Well, let’s not talk about Scott. I mean, after all, he’s not really much of a part of who we are, is he? But he’s still a part of Ashley’s life, so we should deal with him in that context. And anyway, even if Scott and I don’t exactly get along, that doesn’t mean I automatically think he’s crazy.”
    “Okay, fair enough,” Sally replied. “But the letter…”
    “Has Ashley seemed out of touch, or distant, or anything out of the normal lately?”
    “You know as well as I. No is the answer. Unless you’ve noticed something.”
    “I don’t know that I’m all that great at spotting emotional undercurrents in young women,” Hope said, although she knew this statement was the opposite of the truth.
    “What makes you think I am?” Sally asked.
    Hope shrugged. The entire conversation was going wrong, and she couldn’t tell if it was her fault. She looked across the dining room table at Sally and thought that there was some tension between them that she couldn’t quite put a name to. It was like seeing some hieroglyphics carved into a stone. It was speaking a language that should be clear, but was just beyond her grasp.
    “When Ashley was last here, did you notice anything different?”
    As Hope waited for Sally to reply, she went over all the dynamics of Ashley’s last visit. Ashley had breezed in with all the usual bluster, confidence, and million plans all going on at once. Sometimes standing next to her was a little like trying to grab the trunk of a palm tree at the height of a hurricane. She simply had a natural velocity to her.
    Sally was shaking her head and smiling. “I don’t know,” she said. “She was doing this and that and meeting up with one person or another. High school friends she hadn’t seen in years. It seemed like she hardly had a moment for her boring old mom. Or her boring old mom’s partner. Or, I suppose, for her boring old dad either.”
    Hope nodded.
    Sally pushed back from the table. “Ah, let’s just see what happens. If Ashley has a problem, she’s likely to call and ask for advice or help or whatever. Let’s not read anything into anything, okay? Actually, I’m sorry I brought it up. If Scott hadn’t been so upset…Actually, not upset. But concerned. I think he’s just getting a little paranoid in his old age. Hell, we all are, aren’t we? And Ashley, well, she’s got all that energy. Best thing is to just step aside and let her find her own way.”
    Hope nodded. “Spoken like a wise mother.” She began to clear the dishes, but when she reached for a long-stemmed wineglass, the glass broke in her hand, a piece of the base simply breaking off and shattering as it hit the floor. She looked down and saw that the tip of her index finger was bleeding. For a