“A terrible, painful sadness clutched at Ellen. More than ever before, she felt that her life – the best part of it, at least, the part that was fresh and fun – was behind her. Recognizing the sensation made her feel guilty, for she read it as proof that she was an unsatisfactory mother, an unsatisfied wife. She hated her life, and hated herself for hating it. She thought of a line from a song Billy played on the stereo: “I’d trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday.”
