I was not expecting anybody that evening, so to find MaryEllen pounding on my door was a huge surprise. She did not look happy. "Samantha told me what you've been writing." She elbowed me aside, threw her coat off, dropped down on my couch, and glared up at me. "What's this," she snickered. "Don't you even have the decency to invite me in?" The look she gave me said she was expecting something more. "What, have I been writing..." I pulled two glasses down and yanked the cork on a Malbec. "To merit such a visit as this?" "Do I really have to relive that time?" She drew a deep breath. "I mean..." "Each of us has our own backstory," I laughed. "Roger did all right by you, didn't he?" "Don't you dare say 'did'." I looked up with a scowl, startled by the way she said that. "He's never stopped doing it," she continued, returning my look and swirling her glass. "Please," she added, "if you really must be writing about Roger and me, ditch the past tense." "Sorry," I said. "So what's Samantha's beef?" "Same deal as mine. She knows what she did and she knows what Arnie did. Those days are all behind them. Only now you're dredging up old stuff." The way she spoke, it sounded like an indictment. "Hey," I said, "both you guys should be proud. Look where you are now." "No thanks to you." "Did I ask for thanks?" "And you won't even let us close our damn bedroom doors." "That stuff's just part of life," I scoffed. "You got nothing to be ashamed of. Neither of you." "Exactly when did I say I was ashamed?" She looked up with a scowl. "Don't you go stuffing words in my mouth." "Getting a mite testy, are we?" I refilled both of our glasses. "You. You and Samantha. You both ended up with guys who think the world of you." "Isn't that the way it's supposed to be?" "You could at least thank me for that much." "By the way," she added, "That part only works when it swings both ways. That's what Sammy thinks, too." "You're saying I didn't write it like that?" "There you go again." "So what is it," I asked her, "that you women want out of this?" "Don't you know?" "I believe I do," I chuckled, "but I'd rather hear it from you." "It's not so tough," she said, sitting back on the couch and looking at me over the top of her glass. "I want a strong man who can accept me as his equal and treat me that way, who at least tries to understand my needs and is sincere about meeting them." "Like Roger?" "Yeah," she said with a smile. "Like Roger."