Dear Queenie,
I have a friend who loves to cook. So far, nothing suspicious about that. The interesting part is that she regularly cooks dishes she knows I don’t eat but my husband loves. She’ll message: “I made extra. I’ll send some for him.” At first, I thought it was sweet. Then I started noticing just how often she apparently has this mysterious “extra” food. Sometimes I find myself wondering whether it was really extra at all or whether she specifically cooked enough to make sure my husband got some. Still, I told myself not to be ridiculous. Then I noticed something else. Her husband works on another island, so when she needs certain things done around the house, she sometimes contacts my husband. Something needs moving. Something needs checking. Some little household problem needs a man’s hand. And because we’re friends, my husband helps. Now my suspicious mind has started doing arithmetic: She feeds my husband. My husband does husband-type jobs around her house. Her actual husband is frequently off-island. And I am standing in the middle wondering when exactly this arrangement became so... domestic. Nothing inappropriate has happened that I know of. She hasn’t hidden anything. My husband doesn’t behave suspiciously. But something about the whole setup has started making me uncomfortable. Am I seeing smoke where there’s no fire? Or should I be paying closer attention to the woman who seems determined to keep my husband well-fed? —Too Many Leftovers
Dear Too Many Leftovers,
Ah. The way to a man’s heart may or may not be through his stomach. But apparently the road to your anxiety is paved with Tupperware. Let's begin with the evidence. Your friend cooks. She sends food. Your husband likes the food. Her husband is away. She occasionally asks your husband for practical help. That’s what we know. Everything after that is interpretation. And interpretation is where a perfectly innocent plate of stew can suddenly become Exhibit A. Could your friend have a little soft spot for your husband? Of course. Could she simply be generous, know he enjoys food you don’t eat, and regard him as a safe person to call when her own husband isn’t around? Also yes. So don’t convict anyone yet. But don’t dismiss your discomfort either. Sometimes jealousy is irrational. Sometimes it’s simply your internal boundary alarm saying: “This arrangement is becoming a little too familiar for me.” You are allowed to have boundaries before someone commits an actual offence. I’d start with your husband, not your friend. Not: “I think she wants you.” That's how you turn Tuesday night’s curry into an international incident. Instead: “I’ve noticed she sends you food quite often and calls you when she needs things done. Individually none of it bothers me, but together it’s starting to make me uncomfortable.” Then listen. A good partner doesn’t necessarily have to agree that something suspicious is happening. But he should care that the dynamic is making you uncomfortable. There are also easy ways to reset things without creating drama. Perhaps the next time she needs household help, you both go. Perhaps he becomes a little less available. Perhaps every container doesn’t need to make the journey to your refrigerator. And if she’s genuinely your friend, bring the relationship back through you rather than allowing a separate friendship with your husband to quietly develop alongside yours. One thing I wouldn’t do is start monitoring portions, counting containers or interrogating your husband every time she cooks. That’s how insecurity becomes its own problem. Watch patterns, not potatoes. If she starts bypassing you, contacting him constantly, manufacturing reasons to see him, becoming territorial about their interactions, or creating a relationship that excludes you, then you have more information. For now? You have food. You have favours. And you have a feeling. The feeling deserves a conversation. It doesn’t yet deserve a conviction. And perhaps tell your friend that since she’s cooking all this extra food... Queenie would like to know why there’s never anything in the pot for you. —Queenie
