Eighteen #2
‘We were real close. She moved to Sydney when she realized we weren’t coming back.
When she died, she left me her diaries. All her working life – twenty years in Brambleton, then another fifteen in Sydney, she was a dinner lady.
Those diaries. Amazing. They were chock full of happiness.
Raising kids’ confidence before tests, being told their results, sometimes before they’d even told their parents.
Acting as the school agony aunt for teenage lovers’ spats.
And I kinda asked myself, if that woman got so much joy out of life by living every moment of every day doing something as unchallenging as being a dinner lady, what was I doing with my life?
I couldn’t recall being as happy as she had been.
Ever . Challenged yes, proud, sure, exhausted, definitely, but happy?
Nope. So, I asked myself why I was wasting my time doing the same bloody thing day after day if it never made me happy. ’
‘So that’s why you’re a KP.’
‘Hey, don’t knock it. I’m way happier than I was ten years ago. Gives me enough money to pay my way, and plenty of time off during the day to surf.’
He slung the van into a parking space. ‘We’re here.’
Josh led the way down a darkening street to the cinema.
He paid for their tickets, then offered to buy her a bag of chocolates or a box of popcorn.
Fiona tried to stay focused on the present, but she couldn’t help it.
Her mind drifted back to her first date with Ru, the memory flooding her senses like a rising tide.
They had met at Borough Market, where vendors’ voices rose and fell in a rhythmic urban symphony, punctuated by the sharp chop of knives against wooden boards.
Ru was waiting for her, his hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets, a confident smile playing on his lips.
He exuded an unexpected warmth, softening the talented, focused chef she admired.
He had led her through the maze of food stalls and a tapestry of scents – succulent meat sputtering on open grills, releasing wisps of smoky fragrance; wild mushrooms oozing their earthy perfume; chestnuts crackling and caramelizing, discharging a sweet, nutty smell.
Ru described each smell with the precision of someone who lived and breathed flavour.
Fiona found herself spellbound, the sensory overload of the market intoxicating.
Ru picked out a lamb kofta wrap for her, drizzled with creamy yogurt, while he selected a crispy, spicy empanada.
With a mischievous grin, he dared her to try a bite of his choice.
She did, laughing as the heat hit her tongue, then shared a bite of her wrap in return.
It felt natural. Ru wasn’t just a chef; he was someone who loved the comfort and community of food.
He found joy in life’s simplest moments.
Later, they strolled to a cosy craft beer pub.
Fiona scanned the taps quickly, picking out a smoky stout for Ru and a lighter ale for herself.
As they clinked glasses, she noticed the spark in his eyes – a mix of admiration and curiosity, filling her with a longing to prolong the evening, to spend more time with this intriguing man.
Now, sitting in the brightly lit cinema foyer with Josh, Fiona couldn’t shake the contrast. The innocent offer of prepackaged chocolates and popcorn felt so distant from the vibrant, spontaneous energy of that evening with Ru.
Josh’s voice interrupted her musing. ‘Would you like a drink? There’s a bar upstairs, not sure I’d recommend the wine, but they might have a decent beer. ’
She declined, wanting her senses sharp, aware of the difference between now and before. Josh wasn’t Ru – not by a long shot.
The door to their screen opened and a stream of customers flooded into the foyer, blinking as their eyes adjusted to the harsh lights.
Josh held the door open a second longer than necessary, smiling brightly as she slipped past him, her nostrils assaulted by the stale smell of a recently crowded room.
They sank into their seats, the imitation velvet fabric squeaking as Josh fidgeted beside her.
He offered her some popcorn, holding the tub slightly too close to her face.
She waved it away, more curtly than she meant to.
‘No, thanks.’ She could feel him watching her in the low light, his gaze almost pressing down on her, and she exhaled, trying to focus on the trailer starting on the screen.
Josh leaned towards her. ‘I’ve heard this movie is amazing.’
She forced a small smile, glancing at the flickering screen. ‘Great,’ she replied, wishing he’d relax, or, even better, stop talking altogether. She was thinking she’d made a mistake agreeing to this night out. Like Ru said, she should be revising.
She sat stiffly, her knees pressed together, arms crossed loosely over her bag.
In front of her, the glossy trailers flickered, but she barely registered them.
Josh’s proximity gnawed at her – how he leaned slightly toward her to make a jokey comment, how his elbow hovered too close on the shared armrest. She told herself it wasn’t a date.
Yet the way his eyes lingered on her in the dim light told another story, one she didn’t want to read.
A sickly smell of vape clung to Josh, mixing with the salty aroma of the popcorn.
He was fidgeting, and every time he moved a faint whoosh of air carried his scent over to her.
She tried to ignore it, staring intently at the screen, but even the briefest shifts in his seat felt exaggerated to her senses.
He whispered something – was it about the upcoming movie? A joke about the adverts? She smiled vaguely, her attention fixed on the glowing Exit sign at the edge of her vision.
As the opening scenes of the film finally began, Fiona felt a surge of relief – an excuse to go quiet, to avoid the dance of polite engagement.
Josh, however, kept glancing over at her, his face lighting up with every mildly funny line or dramatic moment, as if waiting for her to share in his enthusiasm.
She realized that despite what he’d said about it being just an evening out, she might be leading him on.
Perhaps it would have been better if she had declined his invitation and stayed in her room studying.
Then she spotted the van keys in Josh’s lap, and she swallowed.
. By tomorrow, Ru would doubtless know all about this evening.
She could already picture his wounded expression, hear the passive-aggressive snipes that would follow.
Tonight might be innocent fun, but the ripples it would cause were anything but simple.