the ex-wife

“I loved him, you know.” Kat set her teacup down with a click. Too much of a click.

    “You must have,” said Merideth. “You have two children who are part Malcolm.”

      “They should have told me that he died, that they were coming here.”

      Merideth nodded. “They should have. We are old enough to know that. But they were afraid of hurting you.”

     “Wusses,” said Kat.

     “How did you find out?” asked Bobby.

     “Google. How else? I have an automatic search that turns up references to Malcolm. I started it when he began to sell off assets. They used to be my assets too. He is a fairly well known personality—has been for years. Less so now. I wasn’t expecting a news item about his murder. It was only in the Block Island Times. I don’t know how the national press hasn’t picked it up.”

      “Memorial Day weekend. Probably not in the office,” said Merideth. “What are you going to do now?”

       “I don’t know,” said Kat. “What I want to do is have a stiff drink and talk about it. Can I take you two out to dinner?”

       “Merry?”

       “Well, thank you kindly.  Let me just put my face on. Would you like to freshen up, Kat?”

     “I’ll use your bathroom, if I may.”

     “There’s a powder room over there,” said Merideth. I’ll be right back.”

      Kat reappeared, looking perhaps a little smoother than before, thought Bobby, but not much.  She had been smooth to begin with. Her hair was blond with silver temples and streaks, apparently natural. She was wearing it in kind of a bun, so it was hard to know how long it was. She was slender, like her daughter—and her successor—but not as greyhound-tense as Malcolm’s thirdCK wife. Softer. The silver eyes she had bequeathed to her children were softer than theirs, as well. Or wearier. They had seen more unhappiness, likely. But the smile lines indicated that she hadn’t soured. She was wearing blue jeans, tight ones, not mom jeans, and a white T shirt. Light makeup. And an almost invisible gold chain with some kind of charm that dropped into her V-neck shirt between her breasts.

      “Where do you want to go?” Merideth had put on a red blazer that matched her lipstick, wrapped a jaunty print scarf around her neck and looked ready to take on the town.

     “Somewhere where we won’t run into the kids,” said Kat.

     “Better be, like, Eli’s or Dead Eye Dick’s then,” said Bobby. “Someplace expensive and grown up, not that we really expect you to pick up the tab.”

      “It was my idea,” said Kat. “And I still owe you for the tour.”

      “We’ll discuss that over dinner,” said Bobby.