The Gate House   ::   Demille Nelson

But I had calmed down considerably in London, partly as a result of my job, which required a suit and a bit of decorum, and partly as a result of having gotten rid of the sailboat, and not being able to use clever lines like, “Do you want to sail with me on my yacht to Monte Carlo?”

Anyway, for my last year or so in London, I’ve had a lady friend. More on that later.

I stoked the fire, then freshened my coffee with cognac.

Regarding the former Mrs. Sutter, as it stands now, neither of us has called on the other, nor have we bumped into each other on the property or in the village, but I know we’ll meet at Ethel’s funeral. To be honest, I’d half expected that she’d come by to say hello. Probably she had the same expectation.

This place is heavy on etiquette and protocol, and I wondered how Emily Post would address this situation. “Dear Ms. Post, My wife was fucking a Mafia don, then she shot and killed him, and we got divorced, and we both moved out of the state and met other people whom we didn’t kill. Now we find ourselves as neighbors, and we’re both alone, so should I bake brownies and welcome her to the neighborhood? Or should she do that? (Signed) Confused on Long Island.”

And Ms. Post might reply, “Dear COLI, A gentleman should always call on the lady, but always phone or write ahead – and make sure she’s gotten rid of that gun! Keep the conversation light, such as favorite movies (but not The Godfather ) or sports or hobbies (but not target shooting), and don’t overstay your visit unless you have sex. (Signed) Emily Post.”

Well, I think I’m being silly. In any case, my children are bugging me about calling her. “Have you seen Mom yet?” I’m sure they ask her the same question.

I’d actually seen Susan a few times over the last decade since we’d both left Long Island – at our children’s college graduations, for instance, and at the funeral of my aunt Cornelia, who was fond of Susan. And on these occasions, Susan and I had always been polite and cordial to each other. In fact, she had been friendlier to me than I to her, and I had the impression she had gotten over me and moved on. I, on the other hand… well, I don’t know. And I had no intention of finding out.

On the subject of funerals, I’d attended Frank Bellarosa’s funeral because… Well, I actually liked the guy, despite the fact that he was a criminal, a manipulator, a sociopathic liar, and my wife’s lover. Other than that, he wasn’t a bad guy. In fact, he was charming and charismatic. Ask Susan.