Realwifestories 20 09 11 My Three Wives Remastered Best

I began, not so much to search for answers as to catalog the questions. The women in the photograph had been married to the same man, the note implied, but not necessarily at the same time. Or perhaps at the same time, in a way the photograph didn't have the resolution to show. The house on Thistle Lane had been a wedding present once. It had the scales and scaffolding of other people's lives built into its joists. A funeral program tucked behind a loose floorboard told a name I recognized from an obituary: Howard M. Keene — 1938–2009. The dates brushed like the flap of a page.

Margaret: "Keep the receipt for the lemon oil." realwifestories 20 09 11 my three wives remastered best

When she left, Anna handed me a plain envelope. Inside were three slips of paper, each folded thrice. On each was a single sentence written in a different hand. I began, not so much to search for

After the exhibit, someone from the paper asked for an interview. When I told the story, I made choices about what to emphasize — the humor of Margaret's lists, the music of Rosa's missteps, Eleanor's patient architecture. I kept the things that felt honest and left the salaciousness out; the town liked the gentleness of it. The house on Thistle Lane had been a wedding present once