Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man

and said, “You don’t know me.” But I didn’t care and I told her
as much. I knew right then and there we were going to be mar-
ried some day (of course, this was really more of a hope than a
certainty—smile).
Maybe she knew it, too, or at least liked what she saw because
even though she disappeared the night I informed her of my
plan, she showed up two nights later at another show of mine,
and this time, I asked her to come backstage and talk for a while.
She agreed, and we became fast friends, and even dated for a
spell. But eventually, we both went our separate ways. Still, Mar-
jorie and I always remembered the friendship we had together,
and we reached out to check up on each other from time to
time.
Finally, Marjorie and I reconnected and started dating again;
we got serious pretty quickly, both of us realizing that we had
missed out on a great relationship once, and we didn’t want to
risk losing out on it again. But, even though I knew I was in
love with this woman and that she loved me, I was still con-
nected to some women friends I had developed after my divorce,
when I had really started dating again.
Well, one particular night when Marjorie was visiting me at
my home in New York on Valentine’s Day weekend, one of
those friends called my cell. I didn’t talk much—said, “Hi,”
told her we’d chat another time and that I’d stop and see her if
and when I was back in town, and then hung up. I didn’t even
think Marjorie heard the conversation—at least she wasn’t