Just when I was about to lose it, I heard Estelle come into the kitchen. "CJ?! Are you here?"

     I was, but I wished I were a million miles away. I walked back up the garage stairs into the kitchen. Estelle was busy getting ready to go—of course, where else—to the spa. She took one look at me and had to have known I was feeling awful.

"After I get home, we could go to lunch at the Country Club. How about that?"

     I guess it was more funny than anything else that Estelle really thought that eating at the Country Club would help. "Besides," she said, adding insult to injury, "it will be good for you and Gina to be apart."

Estelle left for the spa, and I sprinted upstairs . . . and my no-cry streak ended. It was a good run.

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