“Yeah … Ken’s … great. I’m a kept woman. Not a care in the world.” My laugh is half embarrassed, half ashamed.

“You’re happy, but you went upstairs to C.C.’s hotel room,” Lisa says as though her words don’t matter, even though we both know they do. When I don’t reply, she shakes her head. “I get it, though. He’s hard to resist. Beth wanted him soooo bad, I had to be the good friend and wrestle her out of there. Her husband would shit a brick if he ever found out she was in that hotel room with him.”

As would mine. “Did she and Christian ever … it seemed like they might have had something …?”

“She wishes,” Lisa says. “She got caught having a hot and heavy text conversation with him while she was supposed to be planning the reunion. I’m not sure exactly what they were saying, but it wasn’t just about whether he wanted chicken or pasta, you know what I mean? Her husband was suuuper pissed off about it.”

“Yikes. That’s no good.”

“Yeah,” Lisa says. “They’ve been having some trouble for a while. I keep telling her to work it out with Steve, though. He’s got a really good job. They have a nice house. She hasn’t worked since before her kids were born. I keep telling her she’s got it too good to give up.”

“Like me,” I say.

For the first time since she got here, Lisa’s casual demeanor hardens. “She makes noise about leaving him, but I told her, look, you can be unhappy in a big house with vacations three times a year and your retirement fully funded, or you can be unhappy in a shitty condo struggling to pay for your pedicures and bitching about who your kids decided to spend the holidays with. Or you can hope your husband pops off unexpectedly,” she adds, “but make sure you have a good life insurance policy on him, one that covers any contingency. I mean, I’d rather have my husband than the money, but at least the money has helped.”

“I’m sorry.” I’m alarmed at the sheen of tears in her eyes. The way she acted at the reunion when she said it was just her makes sense, now. I’m chagrined at how I’d dismissed her then. “I didn’t know. I guess I’ve really been out of touch.”

Lisa pats beneath her eyes with a napkin, getting herself under control before she looks at me again. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like I posted a lot about it when it happened, so you could have missed it. Gary and I were only married for a few years. He fell off a ladder. I’d gone away for the weekend and found him when I got home.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

She nods, accepting my condolences with a sniff. She dabs her nostrils daintily with the paper napkin. “I’ve offered to help Beth’s husband up on a ladder, but so far, he’s been totally resistant to any kind of household repairs.”