Here was how Republican he was: in the early ’90s, he was drafted to run for lieutenant governor of our state on the Republican ticket. But here is how open-minded he has always been: his candidacy was undone when a reporter discovered he had been a registered Democrat since college, and although he had long since stepped to the other side of the aisle, he had never gone to the trouble of undoing that. (He soon did.)

Whatever his current politics, it was too late: I had already fallen in love with his combination of whimsy and steadfastness, his ability to fix broken doors, his wanderlust and just plain lust.

What can I say? Love can sidetrack a person. Still, it did not feel good when I told myself: I love a Republican. It felt, in fact, like I had betrayed someone. Or many people.

Slowly, my close friends and family met Lorne. And slowly, one by one, they took me aside. “Ann,” they would hiss, “he’s a Republican.”

“But he’s pro-choice,” I would say, hanging on to the one political stance he and I actually shared.

“But he’s a Republican,” they would say.

Slowly, I met his friends. Clinton was president then, popular and charismatic. But at my first dinner party with his three oldest friends and their wives, I had to listen to them complain about Clinton. This was before Monica. What was there not to love about Clinton before Monica? Well, I guess if you disagreed with what he stood for, there was a lot not to love. But how could you not agree with what he stood for? Such was my worldview.