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‘Mum, this tastes weird,’ said Lily.
‘Yuckk!’ blurted Toby, as he spat out his mouthful.
Jacob didn’t seem to care, he kept eating while colouring in his drawing.
‘It’s too sweet, isn’t it?’ said Cara, scrunching up her lips.
‘A little,’ Pete replied. ‘I think rice milk is a tad sweet for a white sauce, but it’s okay, it’s not that bad.’ He continued eating, if only to spare his wife’s feelings.
‘You’re a bad liar. It’s awful.’ Cara put down her fork, and laughed at her creation.
‘Put it this way, I don’t think we’ll need dessert tonight,’ Pete commented. ‘This is like dinner and dessert rolled into one!’
Cara laughed harder and flicked a morsel of soggy pasta at her husband, who flicked another morsel back. The kids joined in, and the table became a soggy, gluten free mess.
‘Honey, I’ll cook tomorrow night.’
‘But you’re on night shifts this week. You sure?’
‘No problem. And after dinner, we’ll sort out a menu, okay?’
‘Okay.’ She dabbed at the remaining tears of laughter under her eyes. ‘Hmm, I think I might have that wine now.’
‘Me has wine too?’ Toby asked with curious eyes.
She laughed. ‘Sorry, Tobes, it’s only for grown-ups.’
After the lengthy clean up, Pete left for work and Cara put Toby to bed, crying because he couldn’t drink his milk. When the house was quiet, Cara opened Facebook.
Cara Collinsis wondering if it’s possible to have a mid-life crisis at twenty-seven.
At the clubmeeting the following week, Cara asked that same question while in the Hot Seat, and although several of the women nodded ‘yes’, and Wendy said she’d had herfirstmid-life crisis at twenty-four, Liz said it was simply a case of feeling overwhelmed with one’s responsibilities. Cara had arrived late – her uncharacteristic punctuality from the last couple of meetings escaping her – to find Miranda already in the Hot Seat talking about how she’d been offered a casual position at the beauty salon in the gym.
‘That’s great, Miranda!’ Cara had said as she got settled into a chair with a cup of steaming coffee.
‘Thanks! What about that opportunity you mentioned last time, the art shop? Any news?’ It was unlike Miranda to waste precious time in her Hot Seat with other people’s concerns, but perhaps she was growing into a more balanced human being. She certainly looked happier.
‘No news yet, unfortunately.’ Cara’s excitement about the possible chance to have her artworks selling in a fancy store had gradually waned, as each day passed without a word from this ‘Alice’ woman. She’d thought about going intoQueen of Arts to say she was just passing by, but decided against it, and didn’t want to seem too desperate.
Cara had noticed that one of the chairs around the oval table was empty. She mentally checked off a roll-call of each woman in the club.
Leanne. Leanne wasn’t there.
On asking about her, Liz said that Leanne had decided to leave The Club. Although she’d been enjoying the meetings, she was feeling overwhelmed, what with the huge renovation of her house going on and everything. Plus, one of her children had come into money troubles, so she needed to help out, and said it was probably best she just focused on those issues for now.
And then there were nine.
What a shame. Leanne seemed like she really needed a Life Makeover. Like she’d spent her life caring for her family and finally had a chance to do something for herself, just like Cara – only she hadn’t been doing thecaringfor as long. There’s no way Cara would put a house renovation above her own ‘renovation’. The house could stay messy and out-dated as far as she was concerned, the club meetings were too important to her life now – like a friend she’d come to know well, there for her when she needed guidance.
Miranda’s Hot Seat continued, followed by Gina’s whose excitement about starting a new career seemed to have disappeared. The warm glow she’d developed at the last meeting after deciding to pursue her dreams had been replaced by the same controlled expression she’d had when the club started. She said she was going to postpone the decision until the end of the year, giving herself more time to see if she was destined to be a mother.
Molly was struggling with a lull in her business, and aftermuch reluctance, agreed she finally needed to set up a website and Facebook page to promote Glamour Pets. Until now, she’d been relying on flyers on noticeboards, letterbox drops, word-of-mouth referrals, and a joint venture with some veterinary clinics. Liz advised she should try tapping into the affluent market, and having a professional website would help reach people via the internet who were searching for such a specialised service. Not being internet savvy, Molly said she’d have to invest in professional help for the task. Rebecca had also offered the suggestion of getting a uniform branded with her logo, instead of wearing the usual loose linen pants and frumpy t-shirt. Well, she hadn’t said the wordfrumpy, but it was obvious she was thinking it, the way she examined Molly’s outfit with pursed lips. Molly never dressed up, and evenlookeda little like the scruffy puppy dogs she groomed – minus the glamour. Rebecca told Molly if her business was about glamour, even though it was for pets, she had to look the part too. Miranda offered to help her choose a suitable uniform if needed.
‘So, Cara, did you get those business cards organised?’ asked Liz.
‘Oh yes, I did.’ She’d almost forgotten about them, with everything she’d been dealing with lately. Cara withdrew some from her bag and showed them to the group. She’d chosen against having her qualifications in pregnancy, childbirth, and breastfeeding displayed, opting instead for‘Cara Collins – Artist. Specialising in portraits and decorative paintings.’
‘What I’d like you to do next is create a professional looking portfolio, with samples and prints of your best work. Then, if you don’t hear from Alice soon, I would call her shop to ask for an appointment, and ring around some othershops and galleries as well. You need to get yourself out there, show the world what you can do.’
