Tony dominated the dinner conversation. Without my asking him, he went into minute detail about his life. I was told everything I wasn�t the least bit interested in hearing about his work as a council truck maintenance man. Not content to leave it there he described his favourite football team, the friends he kept, even the state of his love life. It was only later that I was to find out that the woman Tony had described was once a man.
Watching Tony in action I knew I was learning more about him than Kevin. But there were obvious differences between the two brothers that didn't require a verbal explanation. Physically they were nothing alike. While Kevin was medium height, stocky and blond in an Aryan way, Tony was striking in a tall, dark and clonish way. And he had the most dazzling eyes and winning smile. With a nicely cut beard, clones would fall over themselves by the hundreds for this man.
Personality wise they were also opposites. Tony reminded me more of Fred Flintstone � loud and constantly cutting into the conversation. Kevin was subtle and politely waited till I�d finished my sentences before speaking. Both were handsome but I knew which brother I preferred.
When my former boyfriend found out that I'd met a potential husband he was scathing. 'So, he's your fancy man, is he?" he spat sarcastically.
Later in the evening, when we managed to escape Tony's intense presence, I told Kevin that I had to return to my home in Canberra, in a few days. We were both disappointed but I told him that since I had finished my university studies there I was looking at returning to Sydney to live. I also broke some complicated news to him. I lived with my former boyfriend. Diplomatically I explained that not only did I live with him but that I still shared the same bed.
Now I knew that describing this unconventional relationship to a potential mate was risky but I wanted to be up-front with him. Especially when I had nothing to hide. He handled it quite well, especially when I said we had to share for practical reasons. I didn't have any money to move out and we were only sharing a bed, not sleeping together.
We swapped numbers and I promised to keep in contact. The next few weeks were a struggle. I was busy with my life but rang him several times. Until one day he stopped ringing. I couldn't understand it. He seemed so nice. Why would he stop if he was genuine? I was beginning to think that he might be like all the rest, but decided to give him one more chance and called him. He told me that he had been about to give up, having called my number several times only to find that my phone had been disconnected. The phone company had almost sabotaged our embryonic relationship!
When my former boyfriend found out that I'd met a potential husband he was scathing. 'So, he's your fancy man, is he?" he spat sarcastically. But Peter would literally fall over himself, wanting to know everything about this new man in my life. And he wanted details. He wanted to know what Kevin looked like, what car he drove, where he lived and most importantly, if he was rich.
When Kevin drove up to our apartment, Peter was the first one at the window to see what car he was driving and what he looked like. As Kevin walked up the drive Peter exclaimed, almost triumphant, "He's FAT!" As there wasn't an ounce of fat on Kevin's body (I'd already checked) I realised this was just another case of sour grapes for Peter. I'd done well in the husband stakes. But he only had himself to blame if he wasn't happy. After all, he was the one who'd decided we should break up six months ago. Not me. He was just jealous that I'd found my prince charming first.
