John and Kate’s bedroom was bigger than any bedroom I’d ever seen. It was elegant, if old fashioned, with soft white bedding, blue silk walls, and a whole separate toilet and sink area for each of them plus a walk-in closet each. I mean, you could get up and never see each other. Fabulous.

Kate’s dressing room, as they called it online, was filled with designer clothing, of course, but the most amazing thing was that it was divided into sections, with accessories from each brand displayed together with the clothing. I’ve never seen anything like it before or since. I could have moved into her Gucci section, seriously. And John always tells me Kate didn’t shop. He’s so clueless.

I forced myself to keep moving through Kate’s closet and stopped in front of a family portrait of the three of them. Ashlyn looked to be about ten years old, and they were on Ponte Vedra Beach, where they have yet another house. Some folks just have too much of everything, you know?

I reached out and touched Ashlyn’s golden hair in the portrait. Such a lucky girl, and she didn’t even realize it. Still doesn’t. But then again, you don’t really appreciate things until they’re gone, am I right?

“What are you doing?” It was Ashlyn. She’d sneaked up on me.

“Oh my god, you scared me to death,” I said, clutching my chest. “What do you think I’m doing? What every babysitter does, always. Snooping around. Is your show over?”

Ashlyn grinned. She wore skinny jeans and a tight T-shirt, and her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked younger than sixteen. She looked like the girl in the portrait. “That’s funny. You’re right. They all do it, but nobody admits it. I caught my nanny in my mom’s jewelry box once. She thought I’d tell on her.”

“Did you?”

Ashlyn didn’t answer. I followed her out of the closet and into the long grand hallway. She stopped at the top of the stairs, turned, and looked at me. “Not at first. But then, when she started having her boyfriend over during the day instead of taking care of me, well, that’s when I told. When she betrayed me, I betrayed her.”

“I guess a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. Listen, you can tell on me. It’s fine. I grew up with nothing, so I guess I was just drawn into the closet like a moth to a flame. I’ve never seen so many beautiful things.” I held her stare until she broke the gaze.

“How poor were you?” Ashlyn asked, bounding down the elegant stairway two steps at a time.

“Very. Poorest in my school. And all the kids knew it.” I fight back the memories. The dresses with holes in the sleeves, the shame of pants too short for my long legs. The calloused hands touching my body, the hand over my mouth as I tried to scream. The knowledge that no one cared, no matter what he did. My momma’s cold, dark, disbelieving eyes. No one ever believed me. No one ever became my friend. “It sucked. But I got out.”

“How did you get out?” Ashlyn stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up at me.

“Well, first I moved to a new state and never looked back. Next I met Ron, the dentist I dated while I was waiting tables at Bob Evans. We were married. Everything was so wonderful. But then he left me.”

Ashlyn’s face contorts in shock. “He left you? How horrible! You’ve had such a hard life.”

“Yes,” I said pretending to wipe a tear from under my eye. I did have a horrible childhood, but the part about Ron leaving me wasn’t true. It made a better story, though. Ron had been good for about a minute. He had a fabulous apartment, a stocked refrigerator, and two cars. He checked all the boxes I needed for that moment. I needed him in Cincinnati. I needed the braces I’d never had and a soft bed with someone who loved me. But he was a means to an end—stability after the storm of my childhood. Once I got the corporate job working for Mr. Howe, I didn’t need Ron anymore. When I left Ron, I never looked back.

“I can’t believe you were married.” Ashlyn’s mouth gaped open. “You’re just a few years older than me!”

“I know. It’s been hard,” I said. And then, seemingly overcome by emotion, I plunked down on the second to last step and let Ashlyn comfort me.

“Wow, well, at least you’re here now. There are plenty of great guys out there, and I know you’ll find one of them soon,” she said. So sweet. She didn’t know I wasn’t looking further than her home.

And that’s when we became BFFs. She really liked me, and I liked her. I could almost feel the love between us, the sense of family forming. Maybe I’d finally found a friend? Maybe more. Operation Ashlyn was a success. The rest of the weekend was fun and games, ordering in and staying up late. Pj parties and boys sneaking over. It was all a high school dream. Like it was supposed to be when you’re a teenager, like it was supposed to be when you had a rich family. I was at once jealous and having fun.

And then, like a cherry on top, John came home early from the high school reunion in California, leaving Kate all alone across the country.

Of course, I needed to stay on and babysit. He had to work, so it was the least I could do. And Ashlyn insisted. It was thanks to her that we ended up together. I knew John flew home early to be with me. And I was right. The infatuation was so intense, I was surprised Ashlyn missed it. I didn’t. But teenage girls only care about one thing—themselves.

It’s too bad Ashlyn and I aren’t as close as we once were. Jennifer slipped into that big sister relationship, and Kate, well, she’s worked hard to get back into her daughter’s good graces.

I have to watch all three of them at work every day. Well, I used to. It’s disgusting. But I’ll win Ashlyn back, just like I will John. We’re family now, and that’s the strongest bond. At least that’s what my uncle George said last week when we got together in downtown Columbus, and I tend to believe him. I have to believe him. He’s the only family I’ve got.

But grown women have a lot to worry about. That’s why I’m here in Telluride focusing on my marriage.

I need to be in the moment and watch the scenery gliding by outside the windows of the gondola. It is electric here. Kool-Aid colors: bright blue, vibrant yellow, neon green. Telluride’s best-kept secret is summer, that’s what all the locals tell us. It might be true. There’s something about the wide, deep blue sky, darkening each moment in the glow of the dying sun. The green grasses covering the meadows drenched in shadows. The towering pines. People who vacation here are the lucky few. Do they even notice the full moon peeking over the mountain? Do they notice nature at all, or simply believe they are masters of all they see? These people only notice the brand of designer attire the couples across the gondola wear. Is the fur real? Is her diamond bigger than mine? It’s pathetic, really, but so fun to observe. I know because I’m watching them. I want everything they have, and more. Why play the game if you don’t want to win?

I decide tonight the moon is an omen of some sorts. I don’t believe in such things, typically. As a rule, I only believe in myself. Beside me, John gathers up the shopping bags. We’re about to reach the bottom: our gondola stop.

Dangling here, in this glass box high above a pricey and pristine wilderness, you’d think everyone should be happy. I look at the other passengers on the gondola. Across from us is a young mom and dad with three small kids, the parents working so hard to keep everyone seated for the ride. The mom looks exhausted. These first wives do struggle. They have to give birth to the baby, or babies, and then devote themselves to the kids for the rest of their lives. That’s the biggest thing. Us next wives waltz in after all the potty training, the shots, the school selection, the homework. I watch as she picks up the youngest, a baby who looks to be nine months or so, heavy but not yet walking. The baby arches his back and wails.

“Oh my god, Jill, can you get him to shut up?” says the young dad.

Jill bursts into tears along with the baby.

I glare at the young dad. How rude. She’s doing her best. She’s a first wife. I imagine she lives not far from here, in a small one-story rural home. She has no help, no money for good clothes clearly, and vacation means babysitting her own kids with the extra pressure of making sure the children make the dad look good in public. Likely they saved money all year just to visit for the weekend, and now this. No thank you.

I like my men wealthy and broken in, and the kids, if they have to be around, happily away at college. That’s why a man like John seemed so perfect. That’s why I asked if he had any single friends.

Turns out, he didn’t want to share me with anyone. His choice. And I felt like I’d hit the jackpot. He was trained by Kate, his first love, a strong woman who became his business partner. Check. He only had one child, and she was potty-trained and ready for college. Check. He dressed nice, but not flashy. He smiled easily and told corny jokes. He didn’t make a move until he made sure I wanted him. Such a gentleman. Check, check, check, and check.