Dig a little deeper

Martha stood with her arms folded, biting her bottom lip slightly and her eyes glossed over with moisture. It didn’t take a genius to tell that she was in one of her moods, which was lucky because Ben was no genius. The strange thing was she seemed fine just moments ago when he’d brought her a coffee.

‘What’s up with you?’ Ben was hoping that the mood had been caused by the incessant barking of the neighbour’s dog or the relentless nagging of her boss but there was something about her body language that suggested that he was the cause of her wrath.

Martha looked at Ben like she’d just found out that he’d voted Tory, she rolled her eyes and turned away, staring out of the window like some wronged heroine in a period drama.

Ben’s shoulders dropped, he knew how to get Martha out of a generic bad mood but when she was upset with him he had no idea.

‘What is it love?’ He asked more in hope than expectation of an answer.  Martha never told him why she was upset with him, it was up to him to try to guess but knowing how her brain worked and how his brain worked that was often easier said than done.

The problem was that Martha had two distinct personalities, sometimes she was as carefree as a butterfly on a summer’s day but other times she was sensitive to everything and anything. Ben on the other hand breezed through life saying things and doing things without too much thought which meant it was easy for him to put his foot in it without even realising. So when, like now Ben was asked to reflect on what he’d done he would either be completely clueless or he could think or 7 or 8 potential ‘reasons’. 

Despite only being able to see the back of her head, he could tell by the look on her face that he was now expected not only to apologise for what he’d done wrong, but also tell her exactly what it was and why it was wrong.

He approached her and put his hands on her shoulders but her shrug was like an electric shock. He jumped back. His flight or fight instinct told him to run away but he’d learnt from bitter experience that that would only make matters worse because at some stage he would have to come back. He took a deep breath.

‘Look is it because I forgot to put the washing on this morning.’

Martha turned to look at him.

‘You what? Ben! You know I need that blue shirt for my meeting tomorrow.’ Martha stormed from the room into the kitchen to fill the washing machine.

Shit thought Ben, not only did I miss, but I’ve given her something else to be angry at me for. He followed her into the kitchen thinking hard.

‘Okay, I’m really sorry I said I didn’t want your mother to come next weekend, she can come if you really want her to.’

‘I’d forgotten about that,’ Martha said coldly, ‘but now you come to mention it that was pretty selfish of you. You know she’s had a hard time recently. But it’s too late now.’ Martha marched back into the living room, Ben trotting along behind.

None from two, Ben thought, and each miss was just helping to dig the hole a little deeper. Better to quit while he was ahead or third time lucky?

‘So is it because I’ve arranged to go out on Saturday night?’

‘Ben? You promised me you’d watch the rugby then come home.’

This was getting ridiculous, every time he opened his mouth he was just giving her more ammunition. 

‘Okay, I give up? Whatever I did, I didn’t mean it and I’m sorry, you know that I’m an idiot at times. I’m sorry okay.’

‘Sorry, sorry, and you don’t even know what for? Ben how long have we been together?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘And how many times have you made me a coffee?’ Again the question was purely rhetorical but she pointed at the cup on the coffee table.

Ben looked at it and it slowly dawned on him. 5 years they’d been together, 100s 1000s of coffees had been made and this was the first time he’d ever put milk in her coffee.

Ben laughed, is that all it was. But as soon as he saw the look on Martha’s face he stopped.

‘Who is she?’ Martha stared at him, tapping her foot, awaiting an answer. She’d put 2 and 2 together and come up with 5.