Page 53 of Is She Really Going Out with Him?
“Can we have one evening where you’re not having a go at me about post or washing or homework or whatever, Anna?” he says quietly. “Just give it a rest, please.” He makes a face at Sylvie as though to say, “See what I mean?” just as Jess and Ethan reappear from upstairs.
I swallow down the volcano of rage threatening to erupt out of me.Am I really in the wrong here?Downing the rest of my gin and tonic, I excuse myself to go to the toilet. In the downstairs loo there are more photos of Sylvie. Sylvie wearing a bikini on a yoga mat, Sylvie kayaking down a wild river. Sylvie sitting on a fucking elephant. Just looking at these photos makes me feel like a failure. She’s thirteen years younger than me, and I haven’t done half these things, been to half these places.
Nosing around their medical cabinet, I see Dan’s prescription rifaximin. I’m glad to see that he’s still got digestive issues, despite Sylvie’s wholesome cooking. He can no longer blame his irritable bowel on me. Sitting on the closed toilet seat, I try to get a grip on what I’m feeling.Am I jealous?No, I don’t think so. I’m irritated and confused. Irritated because Sylvie is irritating,confused because I don’t know how to navigate this. For the children’s sake I know I need to be civil, that it will make everything easier, but something about this new house, this new life, this new “Daniel,” makes me feel more like a widow than an ex-wife. What happened to the Dan I used to know? Where did he go?
“You have to try,” I say, giving myself a pep talk in the mirror, before heading back out into the beige lands.
For dinner, Sylvie serves up a selection of vegetarian tapas. Annoyingly it’s all delicious. Ethan rejects most of it and asks for baked beans instead, which feels like a small win for me, though I hate myself for even thinking it.
“This must have taken you ages,” I tell Sylvie. “It’s yummy.”
“I know it’s not fashionable to say so, but now that we’re living together, I’m happy to abide by more traditional gender roles,” she says. “Daniel works hard all day, his new job is incredibly demanding. The least I can do is put a wholesome meal on the table when he comes home. My friends think I’m crazy because I get up at five, but I just love to have my workout done and my face on before the day begins,” Sylvie says cheerfully.
“Well, you’re a better person than me,” I say dryly.
“You’re lucky, you have such beautiful skin,” Sylvie says. “I’m sure you don’t need to wear makeup every day. I still get breakouts, so skin care is a big part of my self-care routine.”
Jess saves us from more tiresome details about Sylvie’s skin-care routine by telling us about a school trip she’s going on to the Cheddar Gorge. Then Ethan interrupts, asking who invented baked beans and why there aren’t any other vegetables canned in sweet sauce. For a moment it feels just like old times: me, Dan, Ethan, and Jess all sitting around a table, talking over each other. Only now there’s a Sylvie sitting here too.
“So, Anna, are you dating yet?” Sylvie asks as she brings out a dessert of cinnamon stuffed apples. What they’re stuffed with, I’m not sure, but it looks like more pieces of apple.
“Sylvie,” Dan says, shaking his head at her, then nodding toward the kids. It’s the first glimpse of tension I’ve seen.
“What?” Sylvie looks at him beneath lowered lashes. “They’re old enough to understand these things.”
“Mum’s going out with Ryan Stirling,” Ethan says, and Sylvie and Dan both burst out laughing.
“Another date with the TV, hey, Anna?” says Dan, fixing me with a condescending gaze, then wrapping his arm around the back of my chair. I seethe, shifting away from him.
“ThePort, Starboard, Murderguy?” Sylvie asks. “Oh, he’d be my fantasy boyfriend too, he’s so sexy. But then we already know we have the same taste in men, right, Anna?”Eugh, eugh, Sylvie, eugh.
“It’s not a fantasy. Mum’s really going out with him,” Jess says, and there’s a defensive note in her voice. She hears what they’re doing. Dan pushes out his bottom lip in confusion.
“Yes, I’m seeing him tomorrow night,” I explain with as much nonchalance as possible. “These apples are wonderful, Sylvie. You must give me the recipe.”
“Sorry, what?” Dan laughs, pushing up the sleeves of his jumper as though he’s suddenly too warm.
“He’s in Bath, playing Richard the Third at the theater. I asked him out and he said yes.”
The story sounds much more impressive if I leave out the agent/column part.
“Really? Ryan Stirling? You asked outtheRyan Stirling and he agreed?” Dan sounds jealous—jealous that I get to spend an evening with his man crush. “I introduced you to that show,” he mutters, as though this should give him first dibs on Ryan.
“Well, I’ll be sure to credit you in the wedding speech,” I say, which causes Jess to spit out her apple as she chokes on a laugh.
“Messy, messy,” mutters Sylvie as Jess jumps up to get a napkin.
“I’m joking, I’m not marrying anyone. I’m very happy, just the three of us,” I say, while looking at Ethan.
“I think you mean the five of us,” says Sylvie, putting an arm around Ethan. Now I think it’s best we go before I say something I might regret.
—
When we gethome there’s a letter for me on the doormat. It’s been hand delivered and the lettering is written in ornate calligraphy. Inside is a cream-colored card with more beautifully inked writing.
Ms. Anna,
Michael Giner requests the pleasure of your company.
