‘Let’s all calm down, girlies,’ says Violet. ‘Katie Kirshner is married to a bona fide A-lister, Brad Jenkins. And do they really call her the mattress actress or is that something you just made up on the spot, Molly?? Never heard that one.’
‘Do you think for one second she won’t melt the minute he bats those baby browns???’ interjects Layla. ‘I reckon he could laugh anyone into bed, up to and including this fake-ass bitch.’
‘Sorry, but I’m just so mad at this!’ Juliet continues.
I decide to post something underneath this comment. It’s my maiden voyage, comment-wise, so I want to make an impression.How’s this for erudite and profane?I think as I type.
‘I always find that in instances such as these, it helps to remember that there’s a very good chance that this person has had a poo hanging out of their bum in the last twenty-four hours.’
Juliet immediately posts an open-mouthed emoji in response.
‘Who the freaking flip IS this?’ from Maxi.
‘Yeah, good one, Esther, lmao,’ Violet replies.
With a simmering fury towards Katie Kirshner, I google her only to find assertions galore that she and Brad Jenkins are the ‘strongest couple in Hollywood’. She actually looks like someone you could be friends with, in a parallel universe in which you too are a beautiful, multi-millionaire movie star. I fall down a rabbit hole reading article after article about them, each one more breathlessly enthusiastic than the last.
Johnny is out tonight, again. I’ve stopped asking where, who with and why, and he no longer volunteers that information. Melanie’s Facebook offers no information as to his whereabouts, in any case. I feel as though I’m losing him, or at least what we’ve had together, but I have neither the energy nor the vocabulary to approach it and figure it out. Neither does he, evidently.
Earlier in the afternoon, his phone rang and up came the name ‘Work Wife’. I caught it out of the corner of my eye, before he answered.
By the time he had finished the call in the bedroom, I was already beside myself.
‘Work fucking wife!’ I spat.
‘She did that as a joke,’ he replied. ‘Calm down, will you?’
‘Never in the history of humankind has a man told awoman to calm the fuck down and it’s actually had the desired effect.’
‘If you want, I’ll change it back to her regular name.’
‘Don’t bother on my account,’ I shouted. ‘Enjoy your work wife. Sounds like ye have a great thing going on. Good the fuck for you lads.’ Johnny’s face rearranged itself into exasperation all too easily.
At least we’re fighting, I thought at the time.Maybe we haven’t given up on this marriage altogether.
In a bid to stop wondering about who Johnny is out with tonight, I’m peeking in on Brigitte’s Facebook page, where she has posted a picture of herself, Carrie and Carrie’s bump, which has taken on a life of its own since I last saw her. Brigitte’s hand is resting protectively on Carrie, their excitement almost in blazing 4D. It makes me feel unbearably sad in a way I don’t know how to handle. Jesus, how did things become so bleak? So lonely?
‘Hey. You up?’ Violet types on MSN Messenger.
‘Kind of. Can’t sleep.’
‘Me neithahhh. Think I’m gonna watchShock & Awefor the bazillionth time LOL.’
‘I don’t blame you,’ I write. ‘It always gets me out of a funk too.’
‘Yeah I’m feeling v. funk-ish these days,’ says Violet.
‘What’s up?’
‘What’s not, amirittte?’
‘…’
‘It’s just Mum.’
Violet has never put anything personal on to the forum, so this feels like a whole new frontier for us. But then I’m starting to realize that, once you have Ted in common, the kinships are intense, and they form fast.
‘Oh, OK?’
