Twenty-Six
Zelda nearly didn’t pack for her retreat. There was too much to do. She had too many obligations, too much responsibility. Also, she thought, I don’t deserve this.
For her, it was time out. She would have written her book anyway, she told herself. She would have done this and she could have done that and she ought to have done the other. Her daughter needed the car, however. That was the reason that convinced her to go. Not a theoretical need, but a big need. If she had the car, she could drive herself to her social functions and to shops and to anywhere. That would help her get over what happened last year. It would give her the capacity to leave if someone at a bar or a party tried what they should not. Taxi fares weren’t doing the trick right now. Taxi drivers were also men
