AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Are you ladies here for dinner? Why don’t you join us?’ David ushered them over to a large round table where another couple were seated.
‘Oh, that’s okay, we’ll just sit over there.’ Miranda tugged at Cara’s arm and began walking, before David stepped in her way.
‘Don’t be silly, we’d love to have your company, we can all share some pizza.’ He was already pulling out chairs for Miranda and Cara and introducing them to his friends before they could object again.
‘So, what are we having, everyone? Supreme with the lot?’ David picked up the menu. Everyone nodded in agreement, except Miranda.
‘As long as there’s no pineapple.’
‘No pineapple? That’s the best bit!’ David exclaimed. His friends agreed, looking at her like she’d asked for a sandwich without the bread. ‘What about you Cara, yay or nay to pineapple?’
‘Why don’t you all share a large supreme, and Miranda and I will share a medium supreme with no pineapple. Deal?’ She raised her eyebrows. Cara was used to negotiating. She glanced at Miranda, who mouthed ‘thank you’ before taking something discreetly from her bag.
‘Sounds like a plan.’ David ordered for them. ‘So, Miranda, are you a qualified beauty therapist yet?’
‘Huh?’ A distracted Miranda quickly put a mini notepadand pen back in her bag. ‘Soon. Only a couple of months to go.’
‘Martini is a model,anda talented actress.’ David hooked his arm around his date. Martini smiled and flicked her hair to one side.
‘Oh wow! What have you been in?’ Cara asked.She looks like the woman from the Angel Sanitary Pads commercial.
‘I’m still studying acting in between modelling jobs, but I’ve done a few television commercials so far.’
She ‘is’ thewoman from the Angel Sanitary Pads commercial!
‘Great!’ Cara replied, trying to block out the cheesy image of her delicately cradling a menstrual pad in her hands, while flying through the clouds with her own pair of ‘wings’.
‘What do you do, Cara?’ Martini asked, leaning forward on the table.
Discomfort squirmed in her belly. She hated this obligatory question. No matter how many times she rehearsed an intelligent answer, she always ended up saying the same thing. ‘Oh, I’m just a Mum.’ Miranda kicked her gently under the table.
‘Uh-huh...’ Martini said. ‘And?’ Her raised and perfectly sculpted eyebrows awaited a response.
‘And, that’s it. I have three kids, and they’re a full-time job.’ She plumped her lips together into an awkward smile.
‘Three kids?’ David spluttered after sipping his beer. ‘Wow, you look amazing!’ He eyed her up and down, tipping his head subtly to get a glimpse of her legs under the table. Martini glared at him.
‘Er, thanks!’ Cara lowered her face. She couldn’t remember the last time a man said she looked amazing. Pete’sadoration extended only to: ‘You look fine. Now, let’s hurry up before we’re late again!’
‘So, what do you do during the day, I mean, some of your kids must be at school, right?’ Martini asked.
‘I have one at school, one at pre-school a couple of days a week, and the youngest at home.’ She counted them off on her fingers. ‘Believe me, running the household and being a mother keeps meverybusy.’ She nodded slowly with a heavy expression that said ‘motherhood is the hardest job in the world’. She thought of going into detail and bringing up puke-worthy topics such as diarrhoea, dead insects, and cleaning up regurgitated food caught in the crevices of wooden floorboards, but thought it best not to spoil their appetites.
They ate, talked, and laughed, and even Miranda who seemed reluctant to share a table with them at first, seemed to enjoy herself. It was only after the meal was finished that Cara realised it was the first conversation she’d shared in a long time that didn’t revolve around discussing sleep (or lack thereof), toilet training, eczema, bodily fluids, and The Wiggles concert dates. For an hour, she virtually forgot she had a husband and children at home.
When everyone finished eating, Cara and Miranda excused themselves and strutted to the ladies room. Cara wobbled momentarily, losing balance on her high heels. ‘I have to ask, Miranda, what on earth were you writing down on that little notepad of yours?’
‘Must prefer pizza without pineapple,’ Miranda said.
‘What?’
‘Must prefer pizza without pineapple. You know, the list of my ideal man’s qualities that Liz said I had to carry with me at all times.’
‘So, you just whip it out whenever an idea strikes?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘Geez, you’re dedicated!’ Cara said. ‘I have enough trouble keeping up with my daughter’s homework let alone my own. How many items are onThe Listso far?’
