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buddy and never returned. It was there he had worked at his lucrative, if unsteady, occupation as a salesman for several car dealerships, a medical supplier, a pesticide manufacturer, and half a dozen cell phone companies.
    Texas was also where Mark had married his next three wives. His first new wife, post-Andy, was named Kathy, and the relationship lasted five years before she had enough. Andy suspected that his next choice, Renatta, was likely a keeper because the couple stayed together nearly 15 years. She developed cancer late in the marriage, and Mark reportedly remained at her side until the end. Tilda, on the other hand, was just getting fired up.
    It had been a whirlwind romance, according to Mitch, who periodically filled his mother in on the basics. In the few short months they’d been together, Mark and his young wife had been to New Age conventions in New York, New Orleans and Chicago, where Tilda performed tarot card readings, while Mark sold ambience oils and scented candles. They had also taken up salsa dancing and gone on several short cruises south of the border to learn new steps. And in a move that impressed even Andy, Mark and his latest love had both been cast as members of the chorus in a community theater production of Les Miserables at the McAllen Center for the Performing Arts. It was as if her ex-husband was determined to get the party started again after Renatta’s long, drawn-out illness. No matter how Mark had actually died, Andy felt fairly confident that he was likely having a blast at the time.
    By Andy’s calculation, following their divorce her ex had never remained single for more than ten months at a stretch. He also never had any more children. Putting it all in perspective, she could see now that Mark Kornacky was a man who desperately needed someone by his side and absolutely wanted no one tagging along behind. Oddly, Andy discovered just the opposite about her own desires after the split; she loved living alone, and there was nothing better in the world than the four ducklings who once followed her every move. The more Andy faced the fact that she and Mark had never been a good match, the more she felt she might someday be able to forgive him—and maybe herself.
    Andy looked at her watch. She had been dialing various numbers all morning to find out exactly who to contact about getting the death certificate: the McAllen City Secretary of Vital Statistics, the Hildago County Clerk or the Texas Department of State Health Services. When she started her search three hours ago, she naively thought that she would be able to complete an online form, enter her Visa card number, and order a copy by email. However, the digital request forms all stated that only the spouse or children of the deceased could use the form. In addition, the form required the date and location of Mark’s death, neither of which had been divulged by Tilda in her note.
    After another ten minutes of listening to a continuous loop of Mozart’s Magic Flute, she hung up and reconsidered her options. Maybe she should begin again by checking the obituaries for the preceding two weeks in the local paper to see if she could find Mark’s date of death. She searched ‘McAllen newspaper’ and quickly found a website for a daily called The Monitor , with a tab for obituaries on the homepage. She clicked the tab. There she found a list of dates. She clicked on a date and found a list of names. Each name led to its own obituary. She steeled herself to read down the first list, then the next, moving back in time. She looked back two weeks, but Mark’s name wasn’t there. It was possible he’d died three weeks, or even a month before, but why would Tilda wait that long to contact Mitch?
    Next, she searched for funeral homes, thinking she might get lucky and find where Mark had been cremated. She could find the date of death that way and maybe get one of the staff to make a simple photocopy of the death certificate, which she