Swift as a Coursing River | Ongoing

10. Ashes in the air

"Can you pass the salad, dad?" Sandra asks. The four of them are sitting in what is now Ellen's house for their Saturday dinner - Luis only comes when he feels up for it, which tends to be about once a month. After yesterday's evening, the comfort of his family soothes Edwin's nerves. He and Caroline went home shortly after midnight, but despite his exhaustion, he lay wide awake until 4 am. When he slept, it was restless and he woke again at 8, his head heavier than before. No shower or tea could wash that grogginess away. He went jogging, but his mind outran him and mindless TV turned into a background buzz that couldn't keep his attention.

Eventually, he came over early and helped Ellen prepare dinner, chatting about books and movies and The Voice of Flanders. The house is warm and lively and the changes since he moved out have become familiar too. It's still their space, the home of their family, the keeper of their memories. Edwin wonders if the air in the rooms ever aches with emptiness, or if Ellen talks to herself to fill the holes.

"Have you thought about selling yet?"

Ellen shakes her head, chewing on a potato. "Not changed my mind. Too set in my ways, I think." She accompanies her words with a wry smile.

"Are you sure?" Sandra insists. "Because this is a lot of space for just you."

"That's what I said," Edwin agrees.

"I hear you." Ellen sighs. "But I just ... Moving seems like such a hassle. And we've gone to all the trouble of legally sorting this out for the divorce. If I feel lonely, all the more reason to invite people over."

"Throwing parties?" Sandra teases.

"Always," Ellen smirks. "I'm the life of any party, remember?"

"But seriously, if you wanted out, Luis and I could totally buy the house from you. We've been thinking about something bigger."

"Maybe in a few years," Ellen dismisses the proposal. She's never gonna sell the house. Not before she's retired. Maybe she needs the walls with scratches from children's toys and the coffee table with a paint stain to feel at home.

"Dad, do you throw parties now that you live alone?" Tamara pipes up. She leans on her hand and studies him.

"I haven't done that yet, but I've gone out a few times."

Sandra oohs. "You go to the parties!"

Edwin chuckles. "Just with friends. And they're more get-togethers than actual parties."

"Have you made new friends? No one has seen you since you stopped coming to the basketball trainings." Worry underlies Ellen's statement. It's unfair. He didn't choose to lose most of his friends by virtue of being the husband first and the friend second.

"Benjamin is a homophobe and the rest of them weren't much better, so I quitted. But I met a few gay men who invited me to join their team and Caroline took me to an LGBT bar in Antwerp." He will say more another time. When his children aren't watching.

"Oh, that's great! She probably knows a lot of people." Ellen's enthusiasm lights up her face, crinkling her eyes.

"You knew she is bi?"

"You didn't? Jeez, Ed, she hung up this pride flag a few years ago and her lock screen is literally the bi colours."

"I don't know the bi colours." Something hot curls up in Edwin's neck. He should have known. She's his oldest friend; they met when he and Ellen had only been dating for a few weeks and her support has never wavered.

"Dad, even I know the bisexual flag," Sandra exclaims. "And I thought I was thicker than you."

"Yeah, yeah, we've established I'm completely oblivious, as shown by the fact it took me fifty years to figure out I want a man, not a woman." The words leave an acidic aftertaste on his tongue.