Jenn shook her head.
“I don’t know, really,” she said. “We work on it all the time.”
“When you were married did you ever cheat on him?” Molly said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To get ahead. I thought I was an actress.”
“And you slept with a producer?” Molly said.
“Yes.”
“How’d you feel about it?”
“Lousy,” Jenn said.
“Because you’d cheated?”
Jenn sipped her coffee, holding the mug in both hands, her elbows resting on the table, the light reflecting off the harbor brightening the room.
“Not exactly,” Jenn said. “I guess I felt lousy because the sex was a means to an end.”
“The end being your career?”
“I guess.”
“The career was important, though,” Molly said.
“I know,” Jenn said. “Jesse seemed so complete, except for drinking too much.”
“Even then?”
“Yes. And I felt so incomplete….” She shrugged and made a small half-laugh. “Still do.”
“And guilty?”
Jenn nodded.
“That, too,” she said.
Molly poured them both more coffee. Jenn added the sugar substitute and stirred slowly.
“How come you’re so interested?” Jenn said.
Molly colored a bit. Jenn squinted at her as if the room had suddenly become too bright.
“Molly?” Jenn said.
Molly was looking at the dark surface of the coffee in her cup. Jenn waited.
“I don’t feel guilty,” Molly said.
“You had an affair,” Jenn said.
Molly half-shrugged.
“Last night my husband was out of town. My mother had the kids, and I had sex with a man.”
Jenn smiled.
“Anyone I know,” she said.
“Crow.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jenn said.
“Have you ever met Crow?” Molly said.
