“No.”
“A couple nights apart might do you good. Let you both cool off.” She took the strap anyway. “I don’t blame you. Want me to call a car?”
I reached to take it back. She sidestepped, carried the suitcase two steps down, and yelled up the stairs: “Jake! Your wife’s leaving! You coming down to say goodbye?”
Jake ran out of the bedroom. He saw Diane holding my suitcase by the front door and his face changed. “Mom. What are you doing?”
“Helping her with her bag.” Diane smiled. “She’s going to stay with her parents for a few days.”
“I never said I was going to my mother’s.” I stared at her. “And I never said I was leaving right now.”
Her smile got wider. “Then why did you bring the suitcase down? What else would you call that?”
I stepped up and grabbed the strap. “Give me the bag. I’m not going.”
