No River Too Wide by Emilie Richards

along, and then he would sit nearby and instruct the stylist on what he wanted her to do. No layers, no bangs, not too short. Plain and simple, like the woman he had married.
    “Simpleminded, more likely.” She realized she was talking to herself.
    “Which is what happens when you’re the only decent person in the house to talk to,” she said, then clamped her lips shut to cut off the conversational flow and went back into the bedroom.
    The room was small, but it was comfortable and comforting. There was room for a double bed, a nightstand and a dresser, plus a television stand in the corner with a small flat-screen and DVD player. The walls were a pale sea-green, dotted with impressionistic seascapes and a trio of embroidered samplers from a time when they were a requirement for learning needlework skills. She leaned forward and read the motto on the closest. “‘To thine own self be true,’” she read out loud.
    Had she paid attention to that saying earlier, she would be either happily divorced or dead. She wasn’t taking bets on which way things would have gone.
    She headed toward the kitchen.
    She liked the open-floor plan, which made the smallish house seem larger. Only a granite counter separated the kitchen and living area, although an Oriental carpet in muted tones, and plush sofas and chairs, broke up the long expanse of cherry flooring. Taylor was setting two wine bottles on the counter when Jan approached. Jan saw she had changed into leggings and a long green T-shirt that said “Namaste” on the front under what might be a lotus blossom, but thankfully, since she had nothing clean to change into herself, the theme was casual.
    “White or red?” Taylor asked. “I’ll warn you, I’m no connoisseur. I buy good wine on sale, but then you have to ask yourself why the store is trying to get rid of it.”
    “I’m less of one than you are.” Rex had been against drinking, holidays, dancing. She had often wondered if he was afraid alcohol or just plain fun might dull the pain of her life with him.
    “I’m having red,” Taylor said.
    Jan realized that again she hadn’t answered a question. “Perfect.”
    Taylor poured two glasses and motioned for Jan to take her pick. “I’m a vegetarian, not a vegan, so I’ve got cheese and crackers. Are you hungry?”
    “I’m not sure I’ll ever be hungry again,” Jan said, before she realized how that sounded. “I mean...” She couldn’t find a way to explain.
    “You mean you’ve been through hell and that puts a dent in your appetite,” Taylor said. “At the worst times in my life I’ve stopped eating, too. I’m not sure which is worse for us, stuffing ourselves over every trauma or forgetting that skipping meals makes us susceptible to worse depression and every little germ in the hemisphere.”
    “Put like that, cheese and crackers sounds like a plan.”
    Taylor smiled, and the room seemed to glow. She was an attractive young woman, but her brown eyes were luminous, and when she smiled, she approached beauty. “As Maddie moves toward puberty I get better and better at instilling guilt in those around me,” she said.
    Jan heard herself laugh and hardly recognized the sound. “It’s called developing parenting skills.”
    “Did you have to do that with Harmony?”
    “It was more my job to make her outlook on life as guilt free as possible. I wanted her to look beyond what was going on at home and believe in herself.”
    “I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough time.” Taylor returned from the refrigerator with a block of cheese and set it on a cutting board. “Will you slice this for us?”
    Jan sawed away, and as she did she realized she was growing hungry, which might have been Taylor’s plan. “I promise I’m not going to bore you with stories from our past. I owe you more than that for offering your house to me for a while.”
    “That’s fair enough, but—”
    Jan’s cell phone rang. She looked up. “I’m sorry, I need to get