His First Wife

“What happened?”

“She started talking . . .” He paused. “She asked me if I loved her.”

“And, you said, ‘yes’?”

“No, I was too nervous. I just stood there. I knew I loved the girl and what I was about to do, but I just couldn’t. Something was holding me back. The surprising thing was that she didn’t even look sad that I wasn’t saying anything. She just kept smiling. ‘Well, I don’t know if I love you either,’ she said.”

“What? Do you think she was mad?”

“No, she was dead serious,” he said as the waiter came over and poured more water into our glasses. “Then she wrapped her arms around my waist and said, ‘But I know we’re good for each other and that I could learn to love you, Pres . . .’ I was so confused. It was like she’d practiced everything she was saying. I dropped the ring down into the bottom of my pocket. ‘I think we should get married,’ she added. ‘Would you marry me?’ she asked me as if she was ordering extra cheese on her pizza.”

“What?” My mouth fell open. “She told you she didn’t love you and then asked if you would marry her?”

“Imagine how I felt. I was about to ask this woman to marry me. I told her that didn’t sound like a good idea since she didn’t love me.”

“Exactly.”

“Then she went into this whole speech about how we were both good for each other—a great team,” he said. “And said she knew she could be a good wife for me. That I could pick the weight I wanted her to be and that she wouldn’t go a pound over that weight and that she wouldn’t even need to have children if I didn’t want them.”

“If you didn’t want them!”

“It was nuts. I felt like I was talking to some crazy Stepford wife,” he said. “This wa

s most men’s dream deal, but I couldn’t believe a woman actually supported it. The girl said she’d ‘stay out of’ my business.”

“Wow.”

“I don’t even need to say it, but my love faded just as quickly as it had come, right there in the airport lobby. I wanted to get away from her fast. I was actually embarrassed.”

“What did you do?”

“I told her I needed to go,” he said. “But then she was saying she meant what she was saying and that she wouldn’t get on the plane if I said yes. I said no and walked out.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah, that was the height of my venture toward marriage. The ring is in a safe deposit box. I just never seem to have any luck.”

“Tell me about it,” I said as the waitress cleared our plates and handed out dessert menus. There was no way I had any room for anything else. I’d repeated my break in etiquette and had eaten the last bite of quail.

“Dinner’s over,” a voice said as a hand grabbed my shoulder. I turned to find Marcy standing behind my chair.

“Excuse me?” Preston said.

“Don’t say anything to me,” she said to him firmly.

“Kerry, let’s go.” She began pulling at my chair.

“Marcy, I’m having dinner with a friend,” I said, trying to resist, but people were beginning to look.

“You come with me right now,” she said, grabbing my purse.

I got up as she was walking out of the dining room.

“I’ll be right back,” I said to Preston. “She’s just . . . I’ll be right back.”

“What are you doing here?” Marcy said when I made it to the lobby where she was standing.

“I’m having dinner with a friend,” I said, snatching back my purse. “Which is none of your business. The last I checked, we weren’t friends anymore.”