“Jen wasn’t a great kisser.”

My forkful of spicy green beans stopped mid-arc between plate and mouth. I cocked my head a few degrees at Alex, sitting across the table at Hunan Home’s (that we always called Who’s Not Home throughout the decades that our families had eaten there).

“Seriously?” The word flew up the scale, incredulity in every vowel sound. “She had that gorgeous mouth.”

“That’s true, she did. It wasn’t anything physical or mechanical, though, like too many teeth or skimpy lips. She just wasn’t a huge fan of kissing, so she didn’t give it a hundred and ten percent, as the sportscasters say.” He spoke matter-of-factly, describing his Wife for Life, as he had always called her, my best friend and former college roommate, who died five years ago. That he could talk about her this calmly was a fairly recent development, something that both cheered and relieved me, the left-behind friend of them both.

“Hunh. It’s funny, I don’t remember ever having an in-depth discussion with Jen specifically about kissing. I’ll add that to the long list of things you can’t know about a person unless she tells you or her husband rats her out.”

Alex grinned and raised an eyebrow.

“Absolutely not! You may not... ( click here for the rest of this story)

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This piece is published on my website and is there entitled "Kiss and Tell:  Anne." Recent posts can be found by clicking on Adobe Soup: the Unzipped Life of Candace Mann and scrolling down the home page. Thanks for reading - either here or there.