I am the second Mrs. Roberts. I’ve been married six times. Lucky, I guess some would say. Others would curse me. So be it.
It’s my second husband, Mr. Roberts who stands out. And funny enough, I was also his second wife. We were married for exactly one year. The problem was that he was a Republican and I was a Democrat. We’d have arguments long into the night which smeared our love for each other but heated our physical attraction. During our nightly political debates, we drank wine which led to fabulous sex.
We were both brainiacs and natural researchers, digging up facts all the time which led to Mr. Roberts and I becoming experts on what was happening in Washington, in Congress, in the House of Representatives. On Sunday mornings, we’d watch Meet the Press together where representatives from both political sides participated in intense adversarial debate. We’d turn on other political programming on Fox and CNN.
We’d fight to change channels but we’d both listen with unbending focus, sometimes even take notes, bragging to one another when we heard something that supported our favored party. An avalanche of passionate argument between Mr. Roberts and me followed after any politically-charged program we’d encounter. Tumultuous words exchanged. Sometimes a broken vase or dish. We despised one another’s political parties.
Sometimes I’d turn on the bedside lamp and wake Mr. Roberts in the middle of the night detailing and explaining yet another reason why he should switch his political affiliation. We’d argue until morning despite knowing that we had intense high-paying jobs and needed our sleep. It was a vicious cycle for us.
We divorced within twelve short months. I remember the exact day I received that divorce decree. It was my birthday, September 21st. I felt free from discordance but full of regret. How could we have allowed our differences in politics to split us apart? I missed him instantly.
So, when he phoned two months later and invited me for a day out at an art museum in San Francisco, I accepted. It was a Frida exhibition and I weakened. Tickets were tough to get. Within six hours, we were in bed. Within eleven hours, Mr. Roberts proposed again. We agreed a political truce, a process and some guidelines we would live by. I accepted his marriage proposal and became the third Mrs. Roberts; a marriage that wouldn’t last a lifetime but instead would be a reoccurring process between Mr. Roberts and me. We divorced and re-married each other five times over a fifteen-year period. In short, there have been six marriages for both of us and twelve marriages between us.
The most extraordinary thing is that three years after our fifth marriage to each other, I became a Republican and after five years later, Mr. Roberts became a Democrat. The rest is history. There will be no more divorces.
Linda S. Gunther is the author of six suspense novels: Ten Steps From the Hotel Inglaterra, Endangered Witness, Lost In The Wake, Finding Sandy Stonemeyer, Dream Beach and Death Is A Great Disguiser. Her essays and short stories have been featured in a variety of literary publications. www.lindasgunther.com
