News — Happily

Bluebeard Illustration, “What She Sees There,” by Winslow Homer, 1868   “Sabrina,” says my husband’s first wife, “is married to my husband.” I hear this through The Grapevine, a multibranched root system resembling the hearts of my husbands’ two ex-wives planted in the same plot of deep, fertile soil. Vines like earthy veins, growing tough and twisty. A friend brings me cuttings. I hold them to my ear and listen. I tell my husband I am writing about Bluebeard. “Oh fuck,” he says. I look in the mirror. I have become uglier and stronger. I look out the window. A...