The First Husband

It was worth a lot. How could I tell him how much? I would spend my life trying.

And, still, I picked up my computer and hauled ass out of that room, as fast as my legs would carry me.

40

Later that night I found myself once again in front of my computer—my house quiet, dark, happy—Mila sleeping by my feet, her weight keeping them warm. I was writing an e-mail to Jordan.

The subject line read: MY FINAL “CHECKING OUT” COLUMN. And this is what the e-mail said:

CHECKING OUT

by Annie Adams

WHY I’M LIVING WITH CHEF BOYARDEE IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE

Open Your Eyes:

And look at his.

Leave Your Comfort Zone:

To quote Peter’s good friend John Steinbeck: “I’ve lived in good climate, and it bores the hell out of me. I like weather rather than climate.” Here’s hoping, one of these days, I agree with Steinbeck.

Find the Special Sauce:

I recommend the lobster and eggs, preferably in the middle of the night, sitting on a cold kitchen counter. There’s nothing better than waiting for that next bite, which (even if it shouldn’t be possible) is always better than the last.

Take the Wrong Exit:

Some might say western Massachusetts is a wrong exit. Especially after the “perfect” exit: one leading to a place to call my own on the best block in London, to a high-flying career, to a second basil martini, to a new life that could be anything. But here’s the thing that I’ve learned about this open-ended daring, the thrill associated with endless escape: it gets less thrilling. Especially once you’ve found the courage to choose something you don’t really want to escape from.

Discover the One Thing You Can’t Find Anywhere Else:

I told Griffin about Roman Holiday. He’s the first person I’ve told since you. And he tried to make me sit down and watch it with him. So I would understand we were in it together. All of it. The good, the bad, the ridiculous. And like that, I feel safe in all three. . . . So don’t worry. We are taking it slow, and he is married. But it turns out he’s married to me, so I’m thinking we may have a good shot.

I started to shut the computer down for the night—to go upstairs and get into bed with Griffin, to leave whatever else was coming until tomorrow—but Jordan wrote me back, almost immediately.

To The Editor:

I will admit that I enjoyed this column. Especially the last part. I shouldn’t have to carry all the information regarding Annie’s crazy alone. Glad I won’t have to anymore.

Please tell her not to get too excited, but we’re thinking about coming for a visit. Okay, we’re definitely coming. She can be as excited as she likes.

We can’t wait. Apparently, the middle of nowhere is the most beautiful place in the world when the leaves start to turn.