Jenna picked at her salad with one hand and flipped her black curls off her forehead with the other. Her high cheekbones, which I have often seen pale and drawn, had a pleasant pink flush. She was happy, and I was happy to see her.
“I want to thank you again for doing Orpheus Descending with me,” I said. “Two years ago, was it?”
“Almost to the day,” said Jenna. Her twenty-seven year old cheeks dimpled dutifully.
“Did you ever see Alan after the show ended?” I asked.
I saw a little shadow pass over her face. “We exchange e-mails from time to time,” she said. “But, no, once the play was over I never saw him again.”
“What happened between you and Alan?” I asked.
“Oh, I fell in love with him. Did you not know? Yes,” she said. “Or perhaps I fell in love with the character he was playing. Or both.”
I decided to change the subject. “How is the married life?”
Jenna smiled. “Oh, Chris is a dear. We’ve been married for three years, and things are much better between us now. He’s okay with you and I having dinner together.”
“I never quite understood why Chris hated me so much,” I said. “Why did he refuse to let you visit me for all those months?”
Jenna dropped the piece of bread on the plate. “During Orpheus Descending, my husband was convinced that I was in love with another man. He was right, of course. He was just wrong about who the other man was.”
