apparently we did, because Kat asked, âHow many husbands have you had, Hazel? And why didnât your mother like the thirteen-year guy?â
Seeing Kat as she leaned forward, looking her usual animated self, I reconsidered my reluctance to discuss my sorry marital history. If I could divert this discussion from Evan and the events of last night, Iâd best grab the opportunity. I briefly summarized my marriages, starting with Bobby Dee, my second husband. We lived together for three years until I got fed up with his philandering and moved out. As neither of us were in a hurry to remarry I didnât bother to divorce him for twelve years. At age thirty-eight, I decided to get my life in order, which meant that hubby number two had to goâlegally, that is.
A couple of years later, I married Dan Ricci. That happy union lasted for one year and twelve days. I lost no time in divorcing him.
âWhat happened there?â Kat asked.
âCabin fever.â Not surprisingly, my terse response didnât work. This time I caved in to Kat and Lucyâs expectant looks. âWe went to Yosemite and stayed in a cabin. Letâs just say it was too close for comfort. However, to his credit, Dan was faithful at least.â
âOkay: Evan, Bobby, Dan. Anyone else?â Katâs ticking off the names of my exes on her fingers left me feeling unsettled. Did Elizabeth Taylor ever feel like this?
âThe Republican with the earring.â Lucy was enjoying herself.
âYes. Richard.â I laughed as I remembered him. âDespite the earring, he turned out to be way too conservative for me.â
âThe earring fooled you, huh?â Kat chuckled. âTell me about him.â
âThereâs not much to say about Richard. He was your average trendy Republican.â I laughed and shrugged at the same time. âWe filed for divorce, but he died before it became final.â
âDied? How?â
I described Richardâs death during a skiing weekend at Californiaâs Mammoth Lakes when heâd managed to wrap himself around a tree, leaving me a widow. He and some sweet young thing had been celebrating our impending divorce. I ad-libbed the sweet part, but as sheâd had the temerity to show up at the funeral as the bereaved, um, mistress, I could attest to her youth.
Kat looked closely at me. âI canât tell if youâre sad or not, Hazel. Youâre soâI donât know, matter-of-fact about it.â
âYeah, well, it was just another one of those married-today, divorced-tomorrow deals. Widowed, not divorced. Not that I hated him, but still . . .â I trailed off, eloquence eluding me. In truth I had a soft spot in my heart for Richard, mainly because his untimely death had left me financially secure. Heâd kept his net worth a secret during a marriage so brief that he died before we could file a joint tax return.
After a pause, Kat pursued a different line of questioning. âSo, Hazel, what made you decide to move to Richmond?â
âAll those marriages took a toll on me. I found myself at loose ends and needed a change. Lucy had lost her husband recently as well, so she invited me to stay with her for a while.â If I went with the long version of the story, and usually I didnât, Iâd go on to say that after Richard died I reviewed my options. I no longer needed to endure my high-stress job as a systems analyst for an L.A. publishing company, but I had only three months to go until I was fully vested in my companyâs 401k plan. The âonlyâ three months turned out to be very long, but they finally came to an end. With great satisfaction I gave my resignation to my Generation X bossâor was it Generation Y or Z? I never got a grip on those alphabetic designations for generations. But he was young.
I instantly regretted my decision to skip the long version, as Katâs next question was, âDid
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