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‘It’s valid for six months, but I took the liberty of checking if they had any availability in December, and they do! I got them to hold a room for you, beginning the day afteryour birthday, but you’ll need to confirm by the end of the weekend.’
‘I’ll confirm now!’ Miranda eased onto the bar stool at the kitchen bench and picked up the phone. ‘The timing is perfect. By then I should be pretty much back to normal, and I go back to work the week after.’ Minutes later her retreat was booked. ‘Thanks Mum, it’s the best birthday present I’ve ever received ... along with the...’
‘Butterfly statue your father gave you,’ Sue said, and Miranda nodded. Sue put away the remaining groceries and lifted her handbag off the bench. ‘I’ve left dinner in the fridge for you, and I’ll be back on Sunday to do some cleaning. Now you rest up, okay?’ She kissed her daughter’s forehead.
‘Mum, can you take these books to the second-hand bookstore?’ Miranda pointed to her collection on the coffee table.
‘Why? Don’t you want to keep them?’
‘Mum, your words of wisdom are more profound than any of these books.’ Miranda stood, and welcomed her mother gently into her arms. They embraced for a long time, still and silent. Strong and together as they’d always been. And Miranda knew that everything would be okay.
TWENTY-FOUR
“You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.”
~ C. S. Lewis
It was unlike Gina to stop her usual routine. She always followed the rules, stuck to a schedule, and planned her life a month in advance thanks to her organisational abilities and beloved gadgets. Lately however, she was preoccupied. Everything else had to take a backseat while she manoeuvred her way through this unplanned path. She kept waiting for the right time to arrive, but it never did.
Whenwasthe most appropriate time to leave your husband?
1. During dinner? ‘Could you pass the pepper please, and also, could you move out while you’re at it?’
2. Before bed? ‘Goodnight Marvin. Oh, and goodbye too. I’m leaving in the morning. Forever.’
3. Or via text message when he was at work? ‘You might want to pick up dinner on the way home, because I’m not cooking tonight. Or ever again.’
See, there would never be a good time. Gina had thought of all potential opportunities. Nevertheless, it had to be done. She decided to wait though, until sometime after Marvin’s fortieth birthday party, which she’d planned months ago. The private function room and set menu at his favourite Italian restaurant had already been paid for as part of a special deal, and was non-refundable. She thought she might as well go and enjoy a nice meal; not cooked by herself for a change, and ensure her husband had an enjoyable evening – a kind of compensation for the grief she was about to cause him. One last family dinner to endure, then she’d leave. Of course, there’d be the usual conversations over wine about football, politics, and whose children were developing the quickest. There’d also be the usual questions like, ‘Any babies on the way yet?’ to which Gina would smile politely and answer, ‘We’ll wait and see.’ Funny, how the workings of one’s reproductive system were considered free for public discussion. They might as well ask, ‘When are you ovulating next?’ or ‘Is your period late?’ or ‘Have you tried different positions?’ while sharing a basket of garlic bread.
Wanting some space, Gina had exchanged the gym workouts with jogs through the park, the fresh air and monotonous activity helping her think. She was in no mood to talk about the issues she was facing at the moment. She needed a reprieve from Naomi’s insistent nature, and she’d told the members of The Life Makeover Club what she needed to do, not wanting to return until her mission was complete.
As they drove home from the restaurant after thebirthday dinner, Gina’s nerves quivered like autumn leaves rustling in the breeze, her internal saboteur trying to stop her following through...‘Don’t leave him, how will he cope without you?’it’d say, and:‘How dare you break your marriage vows, you’re disrespecting the commitment you made in front of God.’She fiddled with the cross hanging from her necklace, her collarbones jutting out as though they were trying to escape. The night breeze pushed past her through the open car window and Marvin injected occasional spurts of conversation her way. It was past ten but her eyes were wide, adrenalin high, and she wondered what life would be like for her this time next month. She’d be single for the first time in years, and had forgotten what it was like.
Where would she go?
What would she do about the mortgage she and Marvin shared?
What if she bumped into him in the city’s lunch hour rush?
These were just some of the issues that Practical and Reliable Gina had been obsessing over the last couple of months. This was her life, not a movie where the damaged woman rushed out the door with a suitcase jammed full with clothing, speeding off in her car, tears blurring her vision as she drove nowhere in particular. Gina wanted to know that when the time came to leave, she would be prepared. Tomorrow, she’d check her savings account, research lawyers who could help her, and make a plan of action.
‘What are you thinking about? You seem off with the fairies,’ asked Marvin.
Gina gulped and let go of her necklace. ‘Oh, nothing much, just mentally planning the coming weeks, you know me. Did you enjoy your dinner?’
‘If only I could eat that way every night,’ he replied, patting his satisfied belly.
Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence in my cooking.Although Marvin had been pleasant, talkative, and happy tonight, not once did he say ‘thanks’ for Gina’s effort in organising the event. Fair enough, it washisday, and everyone deserved to be spoiled on their birthday, but a little thanks wouldn’t have gone astray. According to Marvin, his birthday wasn’t yet over, and he was expecting more special treatment once they arrived home.
After they each showered, Marvin collapsed onto the lounge with his feet up. ‘How about one of your best foot rubs, honey, for the birthday boy?’ His pathetic puppy dog eyes pleaded. Gina removed a wooden massage roller from the coffee table drawer. ‘No, not with your gadget thingy, with your hands, like youusedto.’
‘Oh, right then.’ She placed his feet on her lap and rubbed them, glad they were clean from his shower. With any luck, he’d be in such a state of bliss and post-indulgence drowsiness that he’d fall asleep, and she could retreat to the bedroom by herself.
No such luck.
‘Oh, yes, right there ... oh, that’s good,’ he moaned. ‘Now, how about a back massage?’ Marvin removed his pyjama top and rolled over.
Maybe this would do the trick.She’d wait for the tell-tale snoring, then tiptoe off to bed.
