A Widow Redefined by Kim Cano Page B

I’m actually rather glad to be back home.”
    “Why?” I asked, thinking her insane.
    “Oh… it’s silly, really, but I had a run-in with my ex-husband.” Her expression grew strained. “He was with his new wife and baby.”
    “Wow. That’s awful. How strange that you’d bump into him there.”
    “Oh, it’s not strange. He’s originally from France (like my mother) and after the divorce, he moved back home. My mom enjoyed living in the U.S., but he didn’t; he’d always grumble on about everything. Nothing was ever good enough for him.”
    I felt sorry for her. I couldn’t imagine being in her shoes. Having made it through a terrible marriage, getting divorced, and then running into the jerk down the road, with his new, French wife, and worse yet, baby. She’d mentioned wanting a child, so I guessed this chance visit was especially painful.
    “Looks like you’re the lucky one,” I told her.
    “How so?”
    “Because you didn’t get stuck with him.”
    Something about the comment caused Sabrina to burst into laughter. “I guess you’re right,” she agreed, then began treading water.
    “Plus,” I added, “Who wants to be with a guy for whom nothing is ever good enough? It sounds exhausting.”
    Sabrina looked at me, her expression a sad mix of “I’ve already lived it and you just wouldn’t understand.”
    No, I thought, answering her in my mind, I wouldn’t.
    “Justin would’ve told you to not even bother trying, to just be yourself.”
    Sabrina gazed off into nowhere for a while, then looked back at me. “We talked about it,” she said, “while he was working on the bathroom, I think.” She paused, no doubt remembering their time together. “He listened patiently while I rambled on and on about our brief courtship, and the roller-coaster marriage with all its nasty little events.”
    “And what did he say?”
    “He didn’t say anything then, just worked and listened, poor guy.”
    I smirked.
    “Since I was full of steam, I continued complaining about my ex’s every indiscretion, leaving no hurtful detail untold.”
    “You were really that transparent?”
    Sabrina grinned. “Well, I hadn’t meant to be. But Justin was patient. After I was done, he got up, wiped his hands with his work towel, and told me he was going to have to charge me extra for therapy.”
    She shot me a smile, which was contagious, and I smiled, too.
    “How did you respond to that?”
    “At first I was stunned, but then I erupted into uncontrollable laughter. Then Justin said, ‘Mission accomplished, made you smile.’”
    Was my husband flirting or just being nice?
    Sabrina went on, “He told me he was sorry to hear about my bad experience, and that, unfortunately, these stories were becoming more and more common, but that it didn’t have to be that way. Love could be a simple thing.”
    I listened with equal measures of curiosity and concern.
    “He said he’d met you in high school. You shared a few classes together, went to prom. After graduation, you moved out and got married.”
    “Wow,” I groaned, “Could we have been anymore simpleton? We’re positive bores.”
    Sabrina gave me a stern look. “You’re not simpletons,” she stated. “It’s how it’s supposed to be… easy.”
    Then, without getting her hair wet, she dove forward like a dolphin and began swimming a lap. I began swimming too. As I did, I thought about what she’d just said. How things are supposed to be easy. I wasn’t sure if that’s how it had always been for us, or if we just stuck together more than the average couple. Gliding through the warm water, without either of us speaking for a full ten minutes, I got lost in my memories.
    Then Sabrina stopped. “I’m sorry, Amy. I’m a terrible hostess. Are you getting hungry?”
    “Sure,” I said. “I could eat.”
    Then, with the grace of a ballerina, she climbed out of the pool. I couldn’t help but notice her perfect posture. Maybe she had taken dance lessons or