Page 83 of Begin Again Again

An episode later, Beth started replying with what became her trademark examples.“Yeah, fuck being a man—I want to cry when I’m angry, not punch holes in the dry wall and lose the bond on every apartment I ever rent.”

“I don’t have the emotional energy to believe I could play professional sport if I wasn’t such an unmotivated alcoholic.”

“I want to order corn fritters at a cafe without considering if that’s gayer than bacon and eggs.”

“Fuck being a man—bringing up your D-list successes in every conversation is a full-time job that pays nothing.”

Beth stood by her jokes a hundred percent, but a small, scared part of her still wondered if Byron thought she was a feminazi or a social justice warrior, or one of the other million things guys called women who tried to be funny.

“I’m glad you like the show,” she said. “I had a lot of fun making it.”

“It sounds like it.”

“Yeah, Dolly’s really funny. She doesn’t have to try, she’s just naturally quotable.”

“Yeah, but you’re funny too. You’re the one people listen for.”

“You’re just saying that because you fingered me on a slide, aren’t you?”

Byron flicked on the car’s indicator. “It was the top of a slide.”

They merged into the right-hand lane. Beth hated that she was waiting for Byron to say more, to validate that she didn’t have to be insecure about her work. She wished she could just stand beside Wine Wives and not worry if the Magnolia episode was the one where she told Dolly about Tom Gilakis saying she had a six face and a ten body.

“I think I talked too much on Wine Wives,” she said. “Like someone has to, but you want to be the joker sometimes, not the straight man, if that makes sense?”

The side of Byron’s mouth kicked up. “Where’d you get the name from?”

“Oh, it was just one of those things. Dolly and I were always drinking wine and talking about the wife characters in books and movies—we thought it made alliterative sense.”

“It does.”

“Until I didn’t drink.”

“Fucked your optics?”

“Something like that.”

“Is that why you stopped making the show?”

Beth’s stomach fell. She wasn’t ready for that story. “It was for a bunch of reasons, but I miss it. I never laughed as hard as I did when me and Dolly were recording.”

“Yeah, you’ve got good chemistry.”

For the hundred millionth time, Beth wondered where she and Dolly would be if they’d pushed on with the podcast. They could be on ‘My Favourite Murder’ money. Or they could have blown their friendship to smithereens.

“You know what I like about your podcast?” Byron said.

“What?”

“You’re honest on it.”

Beth smiled. “Youarea big fan of honesty.”

“I mean it. I was impressed when I listened to you.”

“Because Dolly and I avoided glamourising our exciting lives and feminist opinions?”

He gave her a look. “Because you still sound like you. You sound exactly the way you do when you’re talking to me. I like that.”

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