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“Oh and a pickle too!” Tanya interjects, pointing to a giant jar filled with greenish liquid and blobs bobbing around inside. “The biggest one!”
The vendor reaches for a set of tongs while I shake my head.
“We don’t do family law, I’m afraid. Why? Do you have a friend who needs a referral? I could ask around.”
The pretty blonde shakes her head slowly.
“No, it’s for me. I’m the one who’s divorced.”
Carl, Chris and I are surprised.
“You are?” Carl asks. “I had no idea.”
“I thought you were only twenty-five,” Chris adds.
“I am,” Tanya says in a soft voice, suddenly looking ashamed. “I’m divorced twice, actually, and each marriage only lasted a couple months, so yeah. My marital history isn’t great.”
I frown.
“Divorce is no one’s fault,” I say. “And it’s certainly not our place to judge. But what happened?”
Tanya’s narrow shoulders slump, the energy fizzing out of the pretty girl.
“Well, basically, I got married straight out of college to the first husband. He’s a nice person, but we grew apart. So we got divorced, and then I married an older dude, who was also very kind. He’s actually how I got the money for my apartment. He gave me a nice settlement as part of our divorce, but yeah, that’s the problem now. I guess he’s hit upon hard times, and he wants me to sign the apartment over to him.”
I snort.
“As an attorney, I’d advise you to not do that. There’s no way he can compel you to give away your apartment just because he’s hit upon ‘hard times.’ I mean, it could all be a lie. I wouldn’t put it past him seeing that New York real estate is expensive and hard to come by.”
Tanya nods.
“I know. It’s just … well, I feel bad because of the circumstances surrounding our divorce.”
We begin strolling back to our apartments, the noise of the street fair dying away so that it’s just the four of us.
“Why, what happened?” Chris asks in a reasonable voice. “Do you feel comfortable sharing?”
Our girl lets out a sigh, her shoulders slumping.
“Well, it’s that I was too much of a slut,” she confesses in a whisper, staring down at her feet as we walk. “Both of my husbands divorced me for that reason, actually.”
I’m taken aback.
“But did you do something wrong? Illegal, even?”
She shakes her head miserably, still staring at her feet.
“No. At least, I don’t think so. It’s just that I need it so much all the time. You guys have seen how insatiable I am, and it was too much for my two husbands. I overwhelmed them.”
“You mean, they don’t like the vegetables, not to mention the cactus, and the dildos?”
Tanya nods.
“They hated that stuff. They hated the moonlight rituals, the sunlight worship, and called it “fake” and “made-up.” They said I’d been seduced by the “wellness industry” and needed to “get my head screwed on straight.” Whatever that means,” she adds.
I shake my head.
“Damn. They sound like losers to me.”
