By Abby Drake
Whereas their husbands are out making a living, making offers, and making . . . no matter what, the trophy other halves of recent Falls are slipping no longer so quietly into heart age. Lauren, Bridget, Dana, and Caroline faux to one another that their in simple terms difficulties are events, cosmetic surgery, and which Mikimotos to shop for. yet in the back of the closed doorways in their gracious houses there are damaged hearts and damaged gives you . . . the stuff that gossip is made up of. And the latest dish du jour is a whopper! The husband of 1 in their oldest neighbors, who dumped his spouse for a more moderen model—a sexier, flashier, sleeker hairdresser—is came across lifeless, his ex-wife, Kitty, status over him . . . retaining the smoking gun. Kitty claims she's blameless, and there are many ladies round city who may want the rat lifeless. Now it is as much as the ladies to find the place of their expensive suburb a killer is hiding, and which stable little spouse has performed whatever very, very depraved.
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Whereas their husbands are out making a living, making offers, and making . . . no matter what, the trophy other halves of recent Falls are slipping no longer so quietly into heart age. Lauren, Bridget, Dana, and Caroline faux to one another that their in simple terms difficulties are events, cosmetic surgery, and which Mikimotos to shop for. yet at the back of the closed doorways in their gracious houses there are damaged hearts and damaged delivers .
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Extra info for Good Little Wives
46 Good Little Wives The year that followed was a long bad dream, with time passing like the speed-train from Marseilles to Paris, the image out the window too blurred to allow for emotion. The next thing Bridget knew, she was waiting on tables near the Sorbonne, a woman who had lost her child, and whose husband had become bitter and loveless and so she’d divorced him. “Life on the Camargue is no life for me now,” she’d said to Luc when she said good-bye. He did not disagree. Six years later, when Bridget had already been married to Randall for five, had been living in New Falls among the rich Americans, her father died.
33 a Five Lauren Halliday had been born Lauren Bryson of the Boston–Palm Beach–Nantucket Brysons. The silver spoon in her mouth had literally been a ladle, intricately carved by Paul Revere himself and owned by her industrialist and abolitionist great-great-great grandfather, who’d been gifted it for his “statesmanlike spirit” in helping desegregate Boston. From the Beacon Street brownstone where she’d been raised, to the waterfront mansion where the family wintered, and the sprawling, gray-shingled “cottage” where they summered, Lauren had it all.
The minister shouted again. ” someone, maybe Jack Meacham, muttered. Life returned to the group. Steven stepped forward because he was always the one who was willing to help. “Kitty,” he said, “it’s all right,” and Dana nearly wept because she felt so proud. The rest of the crowd remained half standing, half stooping, frozen in the moment. Then they backed up as Steven moved toward Kitty and Marvin, who slowly approached. Marvin cradled his mother with one arm. “It was her purse,” he said to Steven, as if all the others were gone.