probably discover the call was really innocuous, like the woman is his best friend or something."
"I'm supposed to be his best friend!" She folded her arms across her chest and set her mouth stubbornly. "I have nothing to say to Tom. The two-timer. You should have heard the conversation he was having. It was disgusting!" She paused. "At least...I'm pretty sure it was disgusting. I couldn't hear all the words with that music blaring in the hall."
I scratched a sudden itch at the back of my neck. "Talking on the phone to an old girlfriend is not what I'd call cheating."
"It is when you're on your honeymoon."
"Well, you're not exactly filling up his dance card!"
She gasped. Her eyes narrowed with reproach. "Are you implying that by postponing our wedding night, I'm driving him into the arms of other women?"
"Their arms, no. Their ears? Maybe."
"I can't believe you said that! He's cheating and you're blaming me? You know who you sound like? You sound like a guy!"
I startled at the accusation. Oh, my God. She was right. The threat of sexual deprivation was causing a major malfunction in my hormonal levels. I did sound like a guy. Next thing out of my mouth would probably be "He started it!"
I tried to make amends. "Look, Jack, some husbands have short attention spans, so if a wife doesn't keep them occupied, they'll find other ways to entertain themselves. Ask Nana. They've probably done studies!"
She slumped lower in her chair, her expression despairing. "Did we have problems like this when we were married?"
"Nah. You were easy to entertain. If you ever got bored, I'd take you shopping."
"Tom doesn't like to shop. Come to think of it, he doesn't enjoy any of the things I like. Chick flicks. Pedicures. ESPN SportsCenter."
"Why did you marry him?"
"Because he's gorgeous! And he drives this great little red Porsche. I mean, those are the important things, right?"
"Right. IF YOU'RE IN HIGH SCHOOL! Geez, Jack, what happens when he gets old and wrinkled?"
"He could go on that diet the Kuppelmans are on. They're not wrinkled. But I wonder if all those fruits and vegetables would give him gas."
"What if he loses his hair?"
"Rogaine, hair plugs, hair transplants. Scientists have made great strides with male-pattern baldness."
"What if his Porsche rusts out?"
She grew deathly still. "That could be a problem. You wouldn't believe how much salt they use on the roads in Binghamton during the winter. I wonder how Tom would feel about Florida?" She nibbled the nail of her pinky with worry. "Do you think I made a mistake by marrying him?"
You bet I thought she made a mistake, but I couldn't exactly tell her that. "I think you need to give it a chance," I counseled. "It's only been three days. Give yourself some time to work the kinks out."
She hung her head and sighed with resignation. "Yeah, yeah. I suppose you're right...but I'm still not going back in there tonight!" She popped out of her chair, snatched her overnight bag off the bed, and headed toward the door. "If you won't let me stay with you, I'll have to find someplace else to go. Mrs. S. is a sport. I bet she'd put me up."
"No!" I chased after her. "Five minutes with Nana and you'd blab everything; then she'd be at my door wanting to know why my former husband has breasts. There aren't enough days on this vacation for me to explain the process to her, and I'm not going to start tonight because, as I told you...I HAVE PLANS!"
She folded her arms across her chest and gave me a dour look. "I would not blab everything."
"You would so. You almost gave it away at dinner!"
"A slip of the tongue. I got lost in the moment. So what's it going to be? Your room or your grandmother's? Frankly, I think Mrs. S. and her roommate would love to have me. Tilly asked me all kinds of inquiring questions on the way to the rope bridge today. We had what you would call a wonderful bonding event. In all my years as a man, I never experienced anything like it. It's so emotionally fulfilling." She gave her nails a quick buff on the sleeve of her sweater, then regarded them admiringly. "I think Tilly is rather taken with me." She looked up suddenly. "She's not gay, is she?"
"No, she's not gay. She's an anthropologist."
Jackie's face froze. "An anthropologist? Oh, Jeez. She probably noticed how big my feet and hands