Triangles are usually unstable configurations, but this one seemed solid. No one seemed anxious or concerned about her position with the others. All of the usual negatives that plague women’s friendships were absent. There was never a fight.

I have a picture of their feet after they got a pedicure. The angle of the shot was so evenly placed, it’s impossible to know which one snapped the photo. I had to figure out which pair belonged to which woman. I mean, I don’t look at feet much. One ankle has a silver link chain. I know that is Sue’s. One set of toes is purple; I guess that’s Jeannie. Even now her tie-dye T-shirt is in shades of purple and her hair has a burgundy cast to it. The little toe of each foot touches the big toe of a friend, making a foot circle. The new polish glistens in the sun. They stand on grass that must be Jeannie’s because her garden is so precise we tease her that she cuts it with manicure scissors.

But Jeannie accidentally brought a snake to the garden and the snake was her own father.

Sue needed a job. And Jeannie’s father, Jack, was looking to enlarge his sales force at the car dealership. Jeannie knew Sue’s superb sales skills and suggested she apply at the dealership. She put in a good word with her dad and the current sales manager. Sue was hired.

The learning curve was almost flat for Sue as she skyrocketed into the job. In her second year, she won an all-expenses-paid trip to Barcelona for two and took Rosie. I wondered if Jeannie felt left out or jealous. After all, she was the one who had gotten Sue the job. But maybe Jeannie was asked and refused because of Sara.

Now, Jeannie’s father is very charming. One of those rare men who, motionless, I would disregard if it were not for his aura of physical strength. But once he starts moving, Jack is captivating. Like any good salesman, he focuses on whomever he’s talking to. With women, he stares into their eyes, doesn’t appear to be scanning their bodies or undressing them, and quickly discovers something important to them. He asks questions. He appears fully there, fascinated by the topic and compelled by the responses. Jack hunts for synchronistic passions.

What do women want? We want to be heard. And known. And appreciated. We want someone to see us—our lives and our bodies—as exciting. Jack exudes that. And as you talk with him, you first feel appreciated and then you realize how his lopsided grin lends a hint of the bad boy. Then you want to touch the smattering of freckles covered with soft reddish hair on his arms.