Beneficiary

"Just dinner," Jilly said, "I have to be home to watch 'Survivor.'"

My phone cord was stretched to the max as I straightened my desk, a daily ritual at 5:00 sharp. "But we could be flirting with the traveling salesmen! They're always there, waiting."

"You seem to forget we have husbands."

"Mine? Worth forgetting. Another fight last night. John’s eyes tell the story, Jilly. He doesn't love me anymore."

“Again, the question is… do you love him?"

“Don't make me say it aloud. See you at dinner."

With her farm girl good looks, Jilly plopped onto the chair and flipped a blonde curl aside. Though I tried to steer the gossip away, the conversation focused on the pending breakup of my marriage. Jilly didn't approve of John, said she saw "straight through his tactics” and repeated her weekly refrain. "He's using you, only wants your money, dear. Cut him off or leave him."

I hated to admit that Jilly was right. Pain aside, I responded, "I'm ready to go and I'm drunk. Shouldn't drive, honestly."

As I started my car, I realized I didn't want to go home. Instead, I wanted to race my Lexus into a bridge abutment. The other choice was a scandalous second divorce.

Jilly followed and was the first to see the mangled mess that had been me.

She didn’t know that only two days before, I had changed my will and beneficiary. I hoped the money wouldn't ruin her marriage as it had mine.