Free Family Pictures by Jane Green Page A

things hot to keep them from being unfaithful?”
    “Absolutely.” Angie nods vigorously. “You think it’s any coincidence that all these men keep leaving their wives for young women? It’s not because they’re interested in their brains, or even their hot bodies. It’s because those women haven’t been ground down by childbirth, and PTAs and running a family. Those women don’t crawl into bed every night hoping their husbands will leave them alone so they can read their magazine in peace and get a decent night’s sleep in order to be able to do it all over again the next day.
    “It’s biological.” She shrugs, sipping her coffee. “Men need sex. It isn’t about wanting it, they actually need it, and if you don’t give it to them, they’ll find someone else who will.”
    Sylvie wipes imaginary sweat off her forehead. “Well, thank God Mark and I are absolutely fine in that department. Better than fine. I’ve been known to drag him out of parties because I can’t keep my hands off him.”
    “I don’t blame you. If Simon looked like Mark, I’d do the same thing,” Angie says wistfully as they both smile, both picturing Simon: portly, receding hairline, brilliant mind, and biggest heart you could ever hope to find.
    “Simon is many things, but a sex machine he is not. Mark is just about the best-looking man in town. Maybe in the state,” Angie says thoughtfully. “But Simon’s all mine, oh lucky girl that I am, and he’s a good boy, even if he does need retraining every once in a while. Truth is, I don’t know what I’d do without him, and I make damn sure that if he wants red lace and black tassels, I give him red lace and black tassels.”
    Sylvie snorts with laughter. “Simon would never dare cheat on you. First of all, you’re gorgeous and he’d never find anyone like you again, and secondly, you’d cut his penis off.”
    “I would.” Angie nods seriously. “It’s true. I couldn’t be forgiving after something like that.”
    Sylvie frowns. “I’m not sure any of us really knows how we’d react until we’re there.”
    “Wow!” Angie looks at her. “That’s so … magnanimous of you. You’d be able to forgive?”
    “I didn’t say that. I just think it’s impossible to know. Every marriage is different, and it’s easy to theorize on how you’d react. Plus, some people have an understanding.”
    “I don’t know. I think that’s what people tell themselves when they’re frightened of the alternative. How could you possibly allow the man you love to sleep with someone else? Simon’s no oil painting, but if I imagine him kissing someone else?” She shudders. “Urgh. It makes me feel nauseous. I may be one hell of a flirt, but I take my marriage vows seriously. Deep down, I’m just a good Southern girl, and I can’t condone infidelity. Ever. It goes against everything marriage is about.”
    “I’m not sure I agree,” Sylvie says slowly. “Honestly? I’m not sure it’s the worst thing that can happen to a marriage.”
    “What?” Angie barks. “You cannot be serious! How can a breakdown of trust and publicly humiliating your wife not be the worst thing that can happen?”
    Sylvie nods. “I think, in Bill and Caroline’s case, the public humiliation is awful. But we’re human; we’re flawed; none of us infallible. We make mistakes. Everyone assumes that if someone’s unfaithful, it means there’s something wrong with the marriage, but I don’t know that I believe that’s true. Sometimes sex is just sex; it’s possible to love someone deeply, and to have sex with someone else. It can be about many things, but it doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t love your spouse.”
    “You surprise me.” Angie leans back. “I never expected you to say that. Is this the French part of you talking? All men have affairs and all that stuff?”
    Sylvie smiles. “I don’t know about that. But my parents were married for forty years until my dad died. And—” She