The Other Woman

He did not leave her for me, he had always been clear about that.

When I took the children home there was a single balloon tied to the gatepost.
“Is there a party?” Katie asked me.
“I don’t think so,” I said.

I asked her about the balloon.
“It’s for the children,” she said. “To find their way home.”

She was always there, one way or another. Her name was one smooth, marble syllable. I felt awkward using it. The first time I saw her was in a picture in one of their old houses. I’d been told she wasn’t much to look at but I thought she was quite arresting. Sad eyes the colour of seawater. When I met her in person she was kind and I felt very young. She had a slight underbite like he did. Not many of the photos had them both in it.

There were several reasons not to feel sorry for her. The affair. Her large settlement. The house and the children and the dog. The new boyfriend who had been the old affair. In a way I wanted to think that their house had always been dark and dissolving but I knew that it hadn’t always been so. Their children told me about days around shimmering pools and evenings chasing fireflies. I knew my thoughts were ungenerous.

Then there was the balloon.

“Isn’t that weird?” I asked him.
“She does stuff like that,” he replied flatly.

I knew they spoke on the phone every day and I didn’t ask what about. The phone would vibrate early in the morning. He was someone else’s waking thought. He spent weekend after weekend at the house with the three of them. I made excuses for him at occasions with my family or friends. I knew his life was more important than mine.

I didn’t see the children much. When I did I liked to listen to them talk. They recounted stories and the plots of films scene by scene, having not yet learnt the art of summary. They enjoyed the audience. Tom smiled and rolled his eyes.

The new man went unmentioned for several weeks. Inexplicably, she sold the dog. The children told us that the dog had gone on holiday. Tom asked her. She said she had given it to a friend to look after. Dogs were too “tying”. It later transpired she had given the dog to a charity that had found it a new home. Tom tried to find the dog but the charity would not give him the details.

I knew the children must be upset.
“Maybe she needs to see someone. Everything must have been very stressful for her. Maybe she’s not coping.”
Tom said nothing to this. I wasn’t sure if he was thinking about it or if he hadn’t heard.

He moved back in for a while. He removed the balloon from the gate and bought another dog. I understood that they needed him. He could manage things better by being there. One day she said to me, “I never heard him laugh as much as when he was on the phone to you. It used to make me laugh even in the other room.”