Sheila started to protest. "Mama!" Her mouth puckered up into a pout, ready to do battle. But Keith interrupted.

"Sheila!" His voice cracked like a whip, and I found myself staring at him. It was the tone of an angry parent. "That's your mom you're being disrespectful to." Then his face softened and he turned to her. "Sweetie, we've got all the time in the world. You don't hardly get to see your mama. You girls go on and shop or whatever. I'll be around."

Sheila melted, but my insides froze up. It was like listening to Tony in the old days. He had her wrapped around his little finger. Telling her what to do and giving us permission to leave him. Why the nerve of that sleaze! You girls go on and shop…

Sheila got all mushy-faced and melted into his arms. He kissed her, then pushed her gently away. "Go on. I got band practice anyway." Then he looked at me. There was no mistaking the fact that he was angry. He smiled, but his dark brown eyes were smoldering.

"Y'all have a nice time," he said. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out a small wad of money. "Here, sweetie," he said, turning back to Sheila. "You might see something you want." He peeled off a couple of bills and stuffed them into Sheila's hand. They were twenties. He wanted me to know it, too. It was like he was marking his territory.

"Gotta run," I said, trying to keep my voice light. "'Bye, Keith." I walked away, willing myself not to run back and slap the boy. If Sheila even thought I didn't like Keith, she'd love him all the harder, and that was one thought I couldn't stomach. No, best to let time take its toll and hope she came to her senses.

Sheila sailed over to the VW, adrift on a cloud of adolescent love. She waited until we were on our way down the drive before she roused herself enough to speak.

"Isn't he just awesome?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," I muttered. Just awesome. "How's he come to have so much money?" I asked.

I could feel Sheila's eyes boring into the side of my head. I'd said the wrong thing, as usual, with her.

"Well, not from dope dealing, if that's what you're thinking!"

"I wasn't thinking anything," I said, keeping my voice cool and even. "I just wondered. I don't know a lot about him." Except that I knew he'd been arrested for dope dealing once; that much I'd learned from one of my neighbors.

"Mama!" Sheila sighed in exasperation. "I told you before, he's got a regular job. You just don't like him because he loves me and you don't think he's good enough for your only daughter. It's textbook classic, Mama. You've got empty-nest syndrome, and you're probably pre-menopausal."

"What!" I ran into the parking lane of Bryan Boulevard, swerving back up onto the pavement, but not without spewing gravel.

"Oh, Mama. Really. I'm almost seventeen. We can talk about these things. Miss Dominick, my psychology teacher, says it's quite normal at your age for you to be clinging to your children and trying to recapture your youth. That's why you're doing this stupid country band stuff."

It was a reflex. My hand shot out and I swiped the top of her head.

"Ow, Mama! That hurt!"

She thought I was playing. She did not realize how close she was to extinction.

"How old is little Miss Dominick?" I asked.

"She's young. That's why we all like her," Sheila said. "She knows what's happening. Not like some old, dried-up prune."

"Well," I said, "let me just tell you a thing or two." I was losing it, I knew, but man, it felt good. "I am thirty-four years old, Sheila, and I am hardly in danger of losing my mind, my body, or my hormones. I do not have empty-nest syndrome or any other syndrome, as you call it. I do, instead, have a life and I have a right to that life, no matter how much you disapprove. Maybe you should go back to little Miss Dominick and talk to her about daughters who have a hard time letting their mothers have lives!"

Sheila eyed me like I was a mistaken kinder-gartener. "I don't have trouble with you leading an appropriate life, Mama," she said coolly. "But wearing miniskirts and jumping around on stage at your age is embarrassing. And I have my own life. Keith and I are very serious, Mama."

Those last few words struck fear into my very soul. "What do you mean, very serious, Sheila?" Oh Lord, did we need to see a doctor about birth control? That creep!

"He wants me to marry him, Mama."

"You aren't old enough, Sheila."

"You married Daddy when you were eighteen!"

"That was different." I regretted the words as soon as they'd left my lips.

"Why?"

"Because I didn't have what you have, Sheila. I didn't have college money sitting in the bank, or a chance to make more of myself. I needed your daddy, at least, that's what I thought. But it wasn't true. I didn't need him." I was failing at this, I knew.

"Well, I need Keith and I don't care what anybody says!"

"Well, you'd better think long and hard about ruining your life before it can even begin!"

"Is that what you did when you married Daddy?"

The conversation was disintegrating. We were almost to Vernell and Jolene's driveway and the more I spoke, the further down my throat my foot went. I stopped the car in the driveway next to Jolene's huge white Cadillac and turned to face Sheila.

"Yes and no," I said. Sheila's eyes widened and she looked as if she was about to cry.

"I loved your daddy, Sheila, or at least I thought I did, but I married him for all the wrong reasons."

Sheila gasped. "You were pregnant with me!"

"No, hon, honest to Pete, that happened on our honeymoon. No, I married your daddy because your grandpa was drunk most of the time and I wanted to get away." An understanding reached Sheila's eyes. Lately Vernell was the same way, drunk more than he was sober.

"But I didn't give myself credit, Sheila. I didn't know that I could survive on my own. I didn't think I had any options and I thought I was in love. It was stupid, honey. We didn't know ourselves or each other well enough to commit for the rest of our lives."

"But you loved each other," Sheila said.

"Sure, but love don't always make a marriage, honey. You got to be ready for marriage. You got to know yourself as well as your partner. All's I'm saying is take your time. Don't jump into something out of desperation."

Sheila heard me, but the wall was coming back up. "Well, I do know myself. I am mature for my age and I love Keith."

"Good, then," I said. "If you two have a strong love, then it will last no matter what. It'll last until you go to college and then some. After all, a lifelong love doesn't go away just because someone gets an education."

Sheila rolled her eyes.

"Do you want me to take you to the doctor?" I said finally.

"God, no, Mama!" I breathed a sigh of relief, but too quickly. "Jolene'll take me to her doctor. It's less embarrassing!"

As if on cue, Jolene stuck her head out the front door. "Phone," she yelled out to Sheila.

"I gotta go, Mama," Sheila said, already halfway out the door.

"Sheila, wait, I'm not finished with this conversation."

"I know, I know," she said impatiently, "but really, Mama, I gotta go. I won't rush into anything," she said, a concession to my worry. "But you gotta understand something, Mama. You and Daddy won't always be around. I can depend on Keith. He'll take care of me."

She was gone then, running up the cobblestone drive and into Vernell's brick palace. What had happened to my baby? Only two years ago, we'd talked about everything under the sun. She hadn't let the thought enter her head that I could ever leave her. What had happened to change her? Where had my little girl gone?

Jolene stretched out her arm and handed Sheila the phone. Sheila took it and ran inside without a backward glance, but Jolene made a point of smirking triumphantly at me. She could make my daughter come running anytime she wanted to. Sheila lived with her now and I was out in the cold.