I've been talking to about our separation,' she said
Their food arrived, plates were put down, knives and forks arranged. Macon waved the waitress away.
'I think you ought to come home,' he said. 'Can't we try-'
'I'm trying to make a new life for myself,' she said. 'New directions, different. We didn't have much left, did we? When you broke your leg, who did you call for help? your sister Rose!'
'If I'd called you,would you have come?'
'Well...but you didn't call me. You called your family, and that's where you're happiest, isn't it? The kind of family that always fastens their seat-belts, that has to have a group discussion before they can decide whether to close the curtains. And the best house in the world might be for sale, but you can't buy it because you've ordered a thousand address labels for the old house, and you have to use them up before you move.'
'That wasn't me, it was Charles,' Macon said.
'Charles, you, it's all the same.' Her eyes were full of tears.
'Macon, I know you loved Ethan, but you're not so torn apart by his death as I am. You seem unfeeling, unchanged.'
'Sarah, I'm not unfeeling. I'm...just trying to survive.'
'Survive, yes. Survive unchanged by any experience, just like those silly travel books you write. You're empty, dried up, Macon, and nothing really touches you.'
She put her coat on, clumsily. 'So anyway,' she said. 'You'll get a letter from my lawyer.'
Then she stood up and walked out.