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Maybe she was too fussy? Maybe she needed to forget about unrealistic romance, and be grateful she had someone in her life. But why did she feel so alone?
Gina’s awareness slid back to the present moment by the wobble of the mattress as Marvin flung his side of the bed covers back and got into bed, and instead of lying on his back to fall asleep, he turned towards her. Cologne wafted over to her, and he placed his hand on the side of her stomach.
‘It’s been a while, honey. Now that you’ve been given the all clear, how’s about we try to make a Baby Longwood?’
‘I really appreciate the dinner tonight, but ... I’m really tired. I also have a headache from the ink I spilled at work today, the odour was terrible.’ Gina lifted his hand and placed it by his side. ‘And, it’s not the right time. I mean, I’m not ovulating yet.’
‘Oh. I didn’t realise. When will you be ovulating?’
‘Not sure. I’ll check my fertility app tomorrow and see where I’m up to.’
‘Okay. But when youare, we’ll try, right?’
As much as she loved children, Gina wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to be a mother. She was aware the chances of conceiving were getting slimmer with each passing year, and the risks greater, but she didn’t want any pressure to push her into something she wasn’t completely ready for. Marvin’s only ambitions in life were to keep his V.I.P. parking spot at the company he worked for, have the largest television set out of all of his friends, and have a brood of kids to carry on the family name. Gina’s ambitions were different, she just hadn’t figured out exactly what they were yet.
‘Of course,’ she said, giving her husband an obligatory goodnight kiss on his cheek, before rolling onto her side. Moments later, the familiar sound of Marvin’s snoring echoed through the room.
TWELVE
Life Makeover Principle #4:
YOU are the writer of your own life story. Get a pen, turn the page, and start writing!
Cara would have been on time to the meeting had it not been for the urgent need to notify her Facebook friends of her latest predicament:
Cara Collinshas her first grey hair. The warped, zigzagged little devil is sticking out the top of my head looking all stiff and important, as though it’s shouting ‘Hey world, look at me!’ No matter how much gel I use, it won’t lie flat. I look like I’ve been struck by lightning. Permanently.
‘Cara, great, you’re here! We’re just about to start.’ Liz ushered her late arrival into The Ruby Room, the red glow from the wall candles flickering softly, the eyes of The Club, watching her as she took her seat. ‘In fact, why don’t you start? Tell us what you wrote to describe your ideal day.’ Partof the group’s homework from last month was to write a description of what a day in their ideal life would look like, and to ‘think big’, without limiting their desires.
Cara scratched her head even though it wasn’t itchy, trying (unsuccessfully, most likely) to pat down the grey hair, then pulled a folded piece of paper from her jeans pocket. ‘Okay ... here goes.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I wake refreshed in the morning after eight hours of uninterrupted sleep...’ a small chuckle escaped her mouth at the impossibility, ‘and I enjoy a lazy breakfast on the deck with Pete and the kids, while my housekeeper cleans the house. We head over to a fun-fair nearby and take the kids on some rides, then we sit down to a beautiful meal at an outdoor cafe. The kids remain seated the whole time, allowing me to eat my food in one sitting!’ Smiles met Cara as she glanced up from her piece of paper. ‘After lunch, Pete drops me off at the city’s best massage therapy centre, and I lay on the table in a state of bliss for one hour – actually, make that an hour and a half! The centre’s complimentary chauffeur service drives me home, and I retreat to my purpose-built studio to work on a commissioned art piece, worth two thousand dollars. While I do this, Toby and Jacob have their afternoon nap, and Pete and Lily play a game of Monopoly for their father-daughter time. Afterwards, we all head out to throw a Frisbee around on the beach and watch the sunset. Our cherished professional babysitter arrives in the evening to take care of the kids, while Pete and I go for our weekly date night to an expensive restaurant. We stroll along the harbour hand-in-hand after dinner, before heading home to a quiet and tidy house, where we hop into bed and ...’ she glanced up again. ‘And that’s all I’m going to tell you!’
Laughter and clapping ensued, and Carasmiled briefly. This was just a dream on a piece of paper. Not reality. Things were tense between her and Pete now, ever since their anniversary argument. When they crossed paths between his shifts, their conversations were quick and to the point, only revolving around the necessary topics of the kids and house and daily schedule. There was no easy way to overcome their opposing views on the ‘situation’.
As other members of the group shared their ideal day, more laughter and clapping filled the room. All had detailed descriptions of fun-filled days, except Leanne’s, who simply wanted a day to do nothing for a change!
Miranda’s turn was last. ‘I couldn’t fit everything into one day, so I actually wrote three days worth, but I’m only going to share one of them with you.’
Thank God.Otherwise we’d be here all night,Cara thought.Actually, even with her describing ONE day we could be here all night.
Opening her diamanté encrusted notebook, with ‘Life Makeover Club’ written in swirly letters on the front cover, Miranda began reading. ‘The smell of freshly baked croissants wafting through the air wakes me from my restful slumber...’
Oh please. That’s almost as original as ‘It was a dark and stormy night’.
‘My gorgeous husband carries a tray of breakfast to me in bed, and feeds me strawberries. I later emerge from the bathroom in my size ten skirt and top, with my five-inch heels enhancing my calf muscles. My husband tells me how beautiful I look as I walk into the kitchen where my six-year-old twin daughters are eating breakfast. Mr Gorgeous heads off to work, and I drive my girls to their private school, where they happily skip off to class.’ Miranda did a littleskip before continuing. ‘I arrive at my award-winning beauty salon, where Nicole Kidman, my first V.I.P. client of the day, awaits her favourite indulgence; my signature ‘Feel Fantastic Facial’. I apply the purest organic products to her face, while two members of my staff massage her feet.’
Cara rolled her eyes.Geez, and I thought having a housekeeper was a stretch of the imagination.
‘After lunch at my favourite cafe, one of my employees gives me my weekly mini facial and make-up application, before I leave to pick up my girls from school. They come running out to me, achievement awards in their hands. We go shopping to buy gorgeous clothes, then reward a hard day’s work with an ice cream treat.’ Miranda beamed. ‘We arrive home at the same time as my husband, and we cook dinner together, the girls getting their aprons on to help. When the kids are asleep after reading them their favourite stories, my man and I sit on our back verandah with a glass of red wine, admiring the panoramic ocean view, and discussing how lucky we are. We take a stroll down to the shore and dip our toes in the moonlit water, laughing together and embracing.’
‘Huh?’Ooops, did I say that out loud?Judging by the fact that everyone’s eyes were on Cara, the answer would be ‘Yes’.
‘Did you say something, Cara?’ asked Miranda.
‘Oh, um, I just meant to say that ... you shouldn’t leave your kids alone in the house to walk on the beach.’
‘Well, our house is practicallyonthe beach, so it’s like we’re in our backyard,’ she reassured her.
‘But still, you’d probably at least lock up first and bring your keys with you, right?’ A glare from Miranda pierced the air towards Cara. ‘Never mind.’ She waved her hand. ‘Forget I said anything. Sorry.’What is wrong with me tonight?Shenormally wasn’t the type to interrupt someone and point out a safety hazard in their fantasy.
