Page 47 of The Weight Of It All
“Jesus,” Sean said. He looked at Anika. “Why can’t you cook like this?”
“Same reason you can’t,” she quipped back at him. “You burn toast.”
Sean rolled his eyes. “One time! I burned toast one time.” He smiled at me then produced a bottle of wine. “It’s not schnapps.”
“Thank God,” Anika mumbled.
I agreed. “Never again.”
“I saw the box by the front door,” Anika said softly.
I nodded. “Getting it out of the house felt right. We don’t need to burn it. There’s a charity shop up on Darling Street. I’ll take it up there in a day or so.”
She smiled at me. “Good for you.”
“You look good, Henry,” Sean said. “I haven’t seen you in a few weeks. You can really see a difference. How much weight have you lost?”
“I don’t know. Reed said it’s best not to get caught up on numbers. He said I should see a difference in my clothes and fitness levels before the scales change.”
Sean nodded. “Well, I can definitely see a difference. You’ve lost a few inches for sure.”
“Definitely.” Anika hummed. “So, Reed, huh?”
Instead of answering, I picked up a plate of grilled prawns and handed it to her. “Take it to the table please.”
I knew Anika was itching to ask me what happened today, what warranted my call to her after I left his house sounding a little freaked out. But we at least managed to get through dinner first. Sean planted himself in front of the Sunday football, and Anika and I sat at the table, our emptyplates and dishes pushed away. “I’ll clean it all up later,” I told her.
She didn’t argue. She just poured me a small glass of wine and sighed. “How are you doing, Henry?”
“I’m okay.” It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth.
“Are you lonely?”
I thought about that for a moment. “Not really. I thought I would be, but maybe Graham and I didn’t talk as much as I thought we did. I can’t really decide exactly what’s changed since he left. I take both bins out now. I don’t buy as much coffee. He did clean the bathroom and he’d do my laundry about as often as I did his. But I don’t know. There’s no gaping hole where he used to be.” I sighed loudly. “I look around my house, now he’s not here, and can’t find anything different.”
Anika put her hand on mine.
“Were we that bad?” I asked. “Were we so lifeless and mundane and I was just blind to it? Because I thought I was happy, but I’m pretty sure I was just comfortable. I was happy just knowing he was a constant thing, but we didn’t have a relationship. We had a mutually agreeable companionship.”
“Maybe,” she said cautiously. “I think all long-term relationships are hard work, and complacency is a death sentence.”
“True.” I nodded and sipped my wine. “We had spark and we were vibrant and colourful in the beginning, but things had been monochrome for a long time. I can’t explain it any other way. I don’t remember there being one point where things changed. It wasn’t bad, and we never fought. We just got complacent. I can see that now. I can see why Graham wanted out.”
“And what about Reed?”
“I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know?” Anika’s brow furrowed. “Because I’ll tell you what I know. You spend a lot of timetogether. Outside of the gym. You hang out together, you talk on the phone for over an hour. You smile more now than I can remember seeing for years. You look happier, Henry. And it’s because of him.”
“It’s just flattering and good for the ego,” I admitted. “Being dumped because I’m old and overweight wasn’t exactly good for my self-esteem. But Reed tells me I’m doing great, and he says nice things to me, and it’s pretty fucking sad that I need to hear it from some guy I’m paying to help me lose weight.”
She frowned. “I tell you these things. You don’t pay me.”
“I pay you in food and wine, and daily phone calls.”
“True.” She sipped her wine and sighed. “But it’s more than that with him, Henry. And you know it. You don’t pay him to take you to the markets or to spend the day with you in the city. The phone calls, text messages, coffee at his place…” She looked at me sincerely. “I think he likes you, Henry.”
I shook my head. “Not possible.”
