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the fumes. "Sorry. Go ahead."
    "How long were you married to Fife?"
    "Thirteen years. We met in college, his third year, my first. I'd known him about six months I guess."
    "Good years? Bad years?"
    "Well I'm mellowing some on that," she said. "I used to think it was all a big waste but now I don't know. Did you know Laurence yourself?""
    "I met him a couple of times," I said, "just superficially."
    Gwen's look was wry. "He could be very charming if he wanted to, but at heart he was a real son of a bitch."
    Kathy glanced over at Gwen and smiled. Gwen laughed. "These two have heard my version about a hundred times," she said by way of explanation. "Neither has ever been married so I tend to play devil's advocate. Anyway, in those days I was the dutiful wife, and I mean I played the part with a dedication few could match. I cooked elegant meals. I made lists. I cleaned the house. I raised the kids. I'm not saying I'm anything unique for that, except that I took it awfully to heart. I wore my hair up in this French roll, not a pin out of place, and I had these outfits to put on and take off, kind of like a Barbie doll." She stopped and laughed at the image of herself, pretending to pull a string from her neck. "Hello, I'm Gwen. I'm a good wife," she burbled in a kind of nasal parrot tone. Her manner was rather affectionate as though she, instead of Laurence, had died but was remembered fondly by dear friends. Part of the time she was looking at me, and part of the time she combed and clipped the dog on the table in front of her, but in any event her manner was friendly, hardly the bitter, withdrawn account I'd expected.
    "When it was over, I was pretty angry – not so much at him as at myself – for buying into the whole gig. I mean, don't get me wrong. I liked it at the time and it suited me fine, but there was also a form of sensory deprivation going on so that when the marriage blew up, I was totally unequipped to deal with the real world. He managed the money. He pulled the strings. He made the major decisions, especially where the kids were concerned. I bathed and dressed and fed them and he shaped their lives. I didn't realize it at the time because I was just running around anxious to please him, which was no easy task, but now that I look back on it, it was really fucked."
    She glanced up at me to see if I'd react to the language, but I just smiled back.
    "So now I sound like all the other women who came out of marriages in that era. You know, we're all faintly grumpy about it because we think we've been had."
    "You said you'd mellowed some," I said. "How did that come about?"
    "Six thousand dollars' worth of therapy," she said flatly.
    I smiled. "What made the marriage blow?"
    Her cheeks tinted slightly at that but her gaze remained just as frank. "I'd rather save that for later if you're really interested."
    "Sure, fine," I said. "I didn't mean to interrupt anyway."
    "Well. It wasn't all his fault," she said. "But it wasn't all mine either and he hosed me with that divorce. I'm telling you, I got beat up."
    "How?"
    "How many ways are there? I was scared and I was also naive. I wanted Laurence out of my life and I didn't care much what it cost. Except the kids. I fought him tooth and nail over them, but what can I tell you? I lost. I've never quite recovered from that."
    I wanted to ask her about the grounds for the custody battle but I had the feeling it was touchy stuff. Better to let that slide for the moment and come back to it later if I could. "The kids must have come back to you after he died, though. Especially with his second wife going to prison."
    Gwen pushed at a strand of gray hair with a capable looking hand. "They were almost college age by then. In fact, Gregory had left that fall and Diane left the year after. But they were very messed-up kids. Laurence was a strict disciplinarian. Not that I have any quarrel with that – I think kids need structure but he was a very controlling person, really out of