back then. But he must have liked it. I said no, of course.”
“Of course.” I’d have done the same thing.
“Dating a judge will kill a lawyer’s career.”
“I have the same rule myself. Not that it’s come up so far.”
“So are you dating?” she asked. “A lawyer, a businessman, a painter?”
“Pictures or houses?” I wasn’t sure why I asked for that clarification.
“Either.” She paused for a second. “But dating an artist could be fun.”
“I’ve never dated an artist. I once dated a financial advisor. I think I disappointed him.”
“Why?”
“No disposable income to speak of. He kept wanting me to invest for the long term.”
“Laatz Wallingsford doesn’t pay well?”
“Not bad, competitively for second-year associates. It’s more to do with the cost of living in Manhattan. My salary gets eaten up pretty fast.”
Madeline nodded. “I get that. I was older, making more money when I lived there. So, you didn’t leave a boyfriend behind?”
“I did not.” I might not have left the city so readily if I was leaving a boyfriend behind, at least if he was a serious boyfriend.
“I’m not so sold on the dating thing,” she said. “Nothing ever did get serious for me.”
“You never married?”
She still had her maiden name, but that didn’t mean much these days.
“Never married. I don’t regret it. I mean, I see how happy Becky and Ben are. And I could have been a good mother.” She paused. “No. Scratch that. I wouldn’t have been a good mother.” She wagged her finger at me. “But I’m glad there are women like Becky in my family to keep the generations going.”
I wanted to ask about Josh and his dating life. But I didn’t want to seem nosey or curious or, worse, interested. Which I wasn’t . . . exactly . . . at least not in officially dating. But he was a pretty great guy to be single.
“Rosalind, on the other hand . . . I’d say Josh dodge a bullet with that one.”
My curiosity was piqued, but I pressed my lips tight together and waited for her to say more.
“Are you thirsty?” she asked. “I’ve got lemonade in the fridge, or we can always wander down to the wine cellar.” She got to her feet.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t keep quiet. “Who’s Rosalind?” I asked.
“Josh’s fiancée—ex-fiancée. I’m thinking maybe a prosecco. No reason to keep the bubbles for special occasions alone.”
“No reason,” I managed, while my brain reeled with the revelation.
Fiancée? Josh had been engaged?
*
I took a healthy swallow of the prosecco. We hadn’t left the wine cellar because Madeline said she liked the ambiance down here.
I liked it too, especially right now with so many thoughts swirling inside my head. I’d checked my phone to make sure it had a signal in the stone-walled room. It did. Three bars, but that would be enough if Cecily called.
“Tell me more about Max,” I said, even though I really wanted to ask about Josh and his ex-fiancée.
“We’ve been friends for years, decades now. He’s opinionated, and he’s often misguided, but he gives a good debate. I like a good debate. I missed that when I was a judge.” Madeline paused for a sip of wine. “I liked rolling up my sleeves and getting into the fray. Speaking of the fray, how are things going with Buffy and Mumu?”
Things were not going well with Buffy and Mumu. “I feel like I’m the judge in that one,” I said. “Or maybe the referee. It’s harder than I expected to get anyone to listen to reason.”
“Give the cats to Nellie. She’s the aggrieved party.”
“What about Humphrey? He’s never going to agree to Nellie getting custody. I wish I really was the judge and could make a definitive ruling.” That brought up a thought. “I wonder what Max would do with this. I’ve read a few of his very creative sentences.”
Madeline’s eyes got that dreamy faraway shine again. Her memories of Max seemed to be fond ones. “Max would probably let the cats pick,” she said with a grin.
“He’d ask the cats?”
Now that was an eccentric judge.
Madeline waved her wineglass. “Not with words. You put the cats in the middle of a room. Stand Nellie in one corner, Humphrey in the other, and see who the cats like better.”
I coughed out a little laugh. It was eccentric. But I didn’t hate the idea. I wondered if I could sell it to Humphrey and Nellie.
I could see a flaw though. “What if the cats each—”
My phone rang. It had been so