“Looking For A Husband”

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His name was Reez. Diane delivered this information at brunch the following morning with the energy of a woman presenting a business proposal she was very confident in, which should have been my first warning sign, because Diane’s confidence and actual accuracy have historically operated on separate tracks. “Reez?” I asked. “Short for something longer…

The hangover arrived at nine. Not a catastrophic one – I knew my limits well enough to stay inside them, mostly – but the specific low-grade variety that sits behind your eyes and makes everything slightly louder than it needs to be. The group chat, for example. Which had accumulated forty-seven messages between seven-fifteen and…

I want to be clear that the whole thing was Diane’s fault. Not the marriage – I’ll take credit for that one. But the bet, the list, the three months of increasingly unhinged husband-hunting that preceded the marriage? Diane. Specifically Diane on her third glass of wine, sitting cross-legged on Maya’s couch with the specific…

Let me tell you about the list. Not the grocery list, not the salon supply order, not the business loan checklist I made that I still have framed in my office because I am that kind of person. The husband list. Seven items, written on a Saturday morning with a hangover and the specific confidence…