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She wanted a relationship with someone who would be there for her, wanted a family as much as she did, and who gave her his full attention when they were together. Her attraction to Sam was strong, but she knew that having a fulfilling relationship with him would be without a doubt: Mission Impossible.
‘It’s sogood to see you!’ Miranda collapsed into Trisha’s arms when she and her new hubby Shane arrived to help her move house. The loud screeching of packing tape beingpulled from its roll indicated Sue Sheppard’s presence, and by the looks of it, she’d created a lot of work for later; the boxes almost completely covered with packing tape.
‘The last thing you want is a box breaking open, destroying all the glassware,’ Sue said. ‘Miranda, have you got any more bubble wrap?’
‘I think you used the last of it, Mum. Here, wrap the rest in these.’ Miranda handed her some bath towels. Sue would probably wrap Miranda in bubble wrap if she could.
An hour later, the removalist van had taken the furniture and large boxes, and they all drove over to unit four with the remaining items. Trisha pulled a Bluetooth speaker out of her handbag, set it on the kitchen countertop, and lively music exploded from it.
‘Oh, thanks, hun! You’re good to think of that.’ Miranda danced her way over to Trisha, giving her another hug.
‘So, tell me, how was last night?’ Trisha gripped Miranda’s hands.
‘Don’t ask. He was nice, but he took a million phone calls during dinner,andduring our kiss.’
‘You kissed?’
‘Yes, but it was so quick I barely remember it, and he made a comment about not wanting kids anytime soon,’ Miranda explained.
‘Forget about him then, he’s not worth your time.’ They hugged again.
‘C’mon, you two, there’s work to do!’ Shane winked as he walked past carrying a large box labelled ‘bedroom stuff’.
Trisha edged towards Miranda’s ear. ‘Speaking of kids, don’t say anything, but...’
‘You’re pregnant?’ Miranda’s eyes widened.
‘No! Shhh, we’re going to start trying for a baby.’
‘Oh, Trisha, that’s fantastic! Make sure you tell me as soon as it happens, okay?’
‘Of course I will. Now, let’s get this place glammed up a little, shall we?’
‘Yes!’ Miranda glanced around the room. ‘I was thinking of putting the sunset print I got from Target on that wall.’ She pointed to the side. ‘And a tray of candles over there under the window, on a side table, and – ’
‘And let’s just focus on the practical things first, shall we?’ Sue marched past with a box of kitchen items.
‘What’s wrong with planning the decorative things too? I like beautiful things.’ Miranda put her hands on her hips, but Sue didn’t appear to listen as she pulled utensils, pots, and pans out of a box and they clattered like an out of tune orchestra as she put them away. ‘Focusing on things that are beautiful and perfect takes my mind off things that...’
‘Aren’t?’ Trisha said.
‘Exactly.’ Miranda tilted her head and smiled at her friend. ‘See, at least someone understands.’ She slid an arm around Trisha’s waist and kissed her on the cheek.
Furniture was arranged, pictures were hung, and clothes put away. Miranda kept peeking in the wardrobe and giggling in awe at the shoe organiser that neatly housed her collection, well, some of it anyway. She probably had more shoes than clothes, and Miranda thought it might have been better to have a walk-in shoe organiser with a bonus wardrobe, rather than the other way around.
Sue made coffee and tea every hour and unveiled a plate of sandwiches at twelve on the dot, which were devoured appreciatively. By early afternoon the place looked more like a home.
Miranda retreated to her new bedroom to unpack the lastof her personal items. Prying open the tightly secured bubble wrap, she removed her most cherished possession and placed it on her bedside table. Switching on the lamp next to it, the colours of the glass butterfly statue came to life, the glitter sparkling like fairy lights. It had been a gift from her dad on her eighth birthday. The last gift she ever received from him.
TEN
Grandma Joy’s Words of Wisdom:
‘Make the most of your life NOW. All you ever have is now, and now, and now. See? It’s gone so quickly.’
‘That’s wonderful, Benjamin, your mum and dad are going to love it!’ Cara patted the four-year-old’s back as he proudly held up his artwork. Today in her new class they were making giant cardboard Easter Eggs, decorated with a variety of mixed media including cellophane, fabric, buttons, and of course, the essential requirement for any aspiring childhood artist and every parent’s worst nightmare: glitter.
‘Let me see yours, Sienna. Oh, how... unique!’ It was atrocious. In the few weeks Cara had been teaching the art classes, she’d come up with a list of appropriate words to compliment the not-so-talented little artists, to avoid upsetting them and having them run to their parent crying, ‘Muuum! She said my artwork needed more contrast and depth ... waaa!’
