Black Widow Chronicles

Am I seeing anyone?

The Three Stooges

Am I seeing anyone?

Yes, Bronnie.

I see him everywhere.

When a bus trundles past with ‘our number’ on it. When someone wafts past in Chanel Pour Monsieur. When I stop to give and to give some words of encouragement to those collecting for the RNLI on a wet and dreary outside the local supermarket. When his aura fills the space in birthday and graduation photographs beside his friends and loved ones. When an honorary single malt is raised. When I look to him for the patience I have mislaid as a teenager skates very close to being laid out. When I turn to make a pithy remark that would have tickled his funny bone and which we would have picked at for days, laughing anew. When men stay resolutely seated in the face of pregnancy or disability. When no muscle is offered in shifting 18 years of family life into a removal van, or the skip. When someone orders one of those stick-you-to-the-ground Turkish coffees. When a blue blazer, cream Chinos and soft leather loafers worn without socks pitch up to a fancy wedding. When the Three Stooges do their thing on some obscure TV channel late at night. When I have still to find the funny in the Three Stooges. When his BBC radio is placed in the bathroom of a house he never knew. When his historical hardbacks are placed beside his spy romp paperbacks in a Study which now has single ownership. When the Daffodils newly arrive. When the dual celebrations of Happy Wedding Anniversary and his birthday cards no longer hit the mailbox in June. When every 4th of July rolls around – ‘not Independence Day,’ and of course any sighting of a Red Sox logo. When a sailboat goes by. When soap is caught in my engagement and wedding rings. When time behaves erratically over 3.5 years, simultaneously moving quickly and standing still.

Am I seeing anyone?

Yes, I am still seeing my husband.

The Black Widow