The combined smell of the overspill of beers in the drip trays is unmistakable since we’re sat right in-front of a row of taps, and it turns my stomach. Always has, ever since I worked in a pub during my uni days.
Once we've ordered our drinks, he turns to me and says, “So, you said you have a daughter. Is she your only one?”
Immediately, a smile washes over my face. “Yes! My Lizzie. You said you don't have any kids?”
“No, sadly, it wasn't in God's plan for my ex-wife and I.”
“I’m so sorry, I know how hard that can be on a marriage.”
“Is that why you and your husband divorced so soon after you got pregnant?”
His question confuses me at first. “I’m sorry, I'm not sure what you mean?”
“Well, you told me your daughter isn't two yet, but you've clearly been divorced long enough to consider dating again. Did the stress of having a newborn later in life after trying for so long tear you apart?”
I'm somewhat stunned by the bluntness of his clarification. “No,” I say slowly. “My ex-husband and I divorced two yearsbeforeI got pregnant. He's not part of this equation because he's not the father.”
Tony blinks at me and his expression morphs with his thoughts. “You had your baby out of wedlock? With a man whom you were never married to at all?”
I blink back. Is he for real? “Yes, Tony. Because it's 2025 and women have all kinds of rights now. Including the choice to havea baby ‘out of wedlock’, as you say.” I punctuate the ridiculously archaic phrase with air quotes.
Tony clears his throat and seems to make a decision to try and reroute this soon-to be train-wreck of a date. “Right, right. And you mentioned that you're a surveyor of some sort. What is it you...survey?”
“Oh, I'm a Quantity Surveyor for Danford Woodman. The construction company.”
For some reason, this seems to take him even more aback than having a baby in my unmarried state with a man who isn't my ex-husband. With his prolonged silence, I decide to charge ahead as if he wasn't staring at me in...disgust? “And you're an electrical engineer, is that right? Are you freelance, or do you work for a company?”
“So, you work in the construction industry?”
Ok, guess we're still on me.“Yes, I have done for about fifteen years now, and have been with Danford Woodman for the last seven.”
“With a load of men? Closely? Day in and day out, just builders and tradesmen everywhere?”
Second red flag alert!Or is it the third? Well, at least he's showing those true colours early. Red, red, red. “I mostly work with men, yes, but I'm not the only woman in the company,” I reply.
His jaw clenches and I notice his fists doing the same.
“A woman like you shouldn't be cavorting with so many men. Wouldn't you prefer to work in a girly environment like a department store where you can all just stack throw pillows and gossip?”
“Is that supposed to be a joke?” I splutter because I. Am. Stunned.
“No. A woman doesn't belong in a male-dominated field like construction. Even if your role isn't a physical one. People mightthink you're easy if you're always hanging around men. Add in the fact that you had a child with someone other than your ex-husband and it'll be a foregone conclusion.”
Yeeeaahhh, I think we're done here. What a fuckwad!
He takes my prolonged silence as acquiescence and continues, “You see, Shari, the Lord didn't create women to work, at least not in male industries. It takes a man's intellect for these roles. Women do well in more nurturing environments such as housekeeping or teaching or as nannies?—”
“So it takes a man's intellect for construction, but we meek and useless women are ok to be the ones who teach them? Are you listening to yourself?”
Thankfully, my phone starts to ring and I'm so relieved that Max insisted on the escape call. Except when I look at the screen, it's Brad's name I see.
“Brad? What's wrong? Is Lizzie ok??” I ask in a panic.
His soothing voice placates my immediate fear, “No, no. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. She's fine. We're fine. I know it's early, but I just wanted to check on you in case you couldn't wait for Max to call. Do you need saving?”
Is it just me, or does he sound hopeful? I melt a little at his concern.
“You know what? I do need saving, actually. Can I come over to say goodnight to our girl?” I don't even care that Tony can hear every word.
