The Land of Steady Habits [antikvár]

One of the great advantages of Anders's divorce—besides, of course, the end of the squabbhng and the sudden guiltless thrill of freedom—was that he no longer had to attend the Ashbys' holiday party. Their party, like all of the parties he'd attended in his marriage, was his wife's domain, and he was relieved to no longer have to show up only to be a disappointment to her friends. In fact, the Ashbys' holiday party had become a sort of emblem of obligation to Anders, a reminder, at the end of his marriage, of the kind of man he'd become, when at last year's party, after three quick whiskeys and a squabble with Helene about their grown children, he'd turned and announced to the room that they hadn't had sex in five months, and, even though he was over sixty, it wasn't because of his penis either. The amazing thing, though, was that after all that, after it was clearly his decision to end the marriage; after he'd left what her friends saw as a perfect woman for a life in a condominium, retired, pretty much alone; after he'd openly scorned them and was sure she'd revealed all of his dirtiest secrets to them over brunch, a card arrived from the Ashbys, as if with the season, inviting him once again to their holiday party.