“It all came out after the divorce. A few people knew about it, but no one had ever told me. And frankly, I do not care. I had no physical interest in him at all.” She paused. “Probably ever.” She burst out laughing. “Talk about stupid choices.”

Frankie chimed in and lifted her glass. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!” The rest followed suit, uttering words of cheer.

It was now Frankie’s turn to catch the women up on her escapades. She had moved to New York after graduating from the University of Miami. She auditioned for musicals and got a few small parts in Off-Broadway shows, but that and temp work paid very little, forcing her to live with a variety of roommates, two to three people at a time. One summer, Frankie rented a bedroom in a large two-bedroom apartment on the Upper West Side. They had divided it up so that Dave and Laura would have the living room as their space, Marilyn would have the other bedroom, and they shared a ridiculously small kitchenette. It wasn’t ideal, but it was doable for the few months she was there.

Finding a suitable place to live was a full-time job. She eventually moved into a duplex with a work associate and stayed for several years until she was able to afford a modest studio apartment in Gramercy Park.

Frankie and Rachael had stayed in touch and met for lunch a couple of times a year, so they were familiar with each other’s horror stories. Rachael was getting impatient and urged Frankie, “Cut to the chase. We want to hear your stories. I know you have a few lulus.”

Frankie took a deep breath. “Are you sure you want to hear the gory details?” Nina and Amy urged her on. Frankie confessed that she had been through a boatload of relationships, affairs, heartbreaks, and deceptions. New York. Lots of men. It was easy to meet someone at a bar, club, event, or concert. Learning about someone was another story, especially with most New Yorkers her age coming from all parts of the country and the rest of the world. She often thought it was ironic that someone could be in the biggest city in the country and still feel lonely and isolated. That’s probably why she was eager to have something meaningful with someone. Too bad she had made a lot of lousy choices in her pursuits. Frankie continued, “Then there was the medical intern who had not one but two other girlfriends.”

“Two?” Amy gasped.

“Yes, two.” Frankie took a sip of her drink.

“How did you find out?” Amy was curious.

“I had spent the night at his apartment. The next morning, he left before me. I opened the door to the linen closet to get a towel.”

“Oh sure. You were spying.” Rachael poked her.