6
LUKE, MAC AND I carry the groceries into the house. Bobbi’s car is parked in the driveway. Well, that didn’t take long. Hayley had encouraged the four parents to relax and enjoy their Airbnb, saying, ‘We’ll let you know if we need anything,’ which was code for please give us some space.
As we open the door, I can see Mum and Bobbi sitting on stools in the kitchen and talking to Hayley. I had made Mum promise she wouldn’t come over at all, because I knew it would make Joel uncomfortable, the mother of his ex hovering around, and, at the time, I was feeling charitable towards him.
Now, not so much, but he’s nowhere in sight, which is not surprising.
‘Hello, you two,’ I say, trying to make sure my face looks cheerful and not at all like I have spent the last forty minutes processing the most devastating information of my life.
‘We just popped in to tell you something and then we’ll be right back up to our place. Jean and your father are putting together the most glorious cheese and bikkies spread,’ Bobbi says to me. ‘With that Maggie Beer quince paste I love.’
‘They have exciting news, apparently, but they wouldn’t tell me until you arrived,’ Hayley says, raising her eyebrows at me.
‘Oh great,’ I say.
It will be somehow related to the bra Mum bought me, I am sure.
Mac has walked in behind me, and I see his demeanour change slightly. He puts his bags on the table, mumbling, ‘Excuse me.’ I had thought he’d be the kind of guy who would immediately try to charm older women.
‘Now this must be the famous Mac!’ Bobbi exclaims.
I’m not sure if she’s using ‘famous’ in the sense that she’s heard a lot about him, or that she’s implying he’s literally famous. Either way, Mac looks stressed at the word.
‘Yes. Hi,’ he says.
‘Oh sorry, Mac, this is my mum, Bobbi, and Anna’s mum, Wendy, they pretty much travel as a pair,’ Hayley says.
‘Nice to meet you both,’ he says.
‘Mac, tell us everything about what it’s like working in Hollywood,’ Mum says, the exciting news apparently forgotten.
‘Who is the most famous person you know?’ Bobbi asks.
‘Is Tom Hanks as lovely as he seems?’ Mum adds.
‘No, don’t tell us if he’s horrible. I don’t want to know,’ Bobbi gasps.
‘He won’t be horrible, that’s impossible,’ Mum says.
‘I don’t know Tom Hanks. I’ve never met Tom Hanks, I’m sorry,’ Mac says. He looks at Hayley and Luke with a slightly panicked expression.
‘Mac lives in New York and he does theatre and voiceover stuff right now, and not all actors hang out with famous people,’ Hayley says, with a pointed tone in her voice. ‘All of which I have mentioned to you before.’
‘There are plenty of celebrities in New York, darling,’ Bobbi says.
‘Tom Hanks might actually even live there,’ Mum says. ‘I’m checking.’ She pulls out her reading glasses and starts tapping on her phone. ‘No, he lives in California, never mind,’ she says after a moment.
‘Okay, now we have Tom Hanks’ address sorted, aren’t you supposed to be giving Anna some exciting news?’ Hayley says.
‘Yes. Okay. Now, Anna,’ Mum says. ‘Don’t immediately shut this down.’
‘Don’t start by saying that,’ Bobbi says.
‘Why not?’ Mum says. ‘You know what she’s like.’
‘It’s too negative. Anna, darling, this is a good thing, a very good thing. Fate has cast its hand,’ Bobbi says. She loves a dramatic moment.
‘Please just tell me,’ I say. I can’t take the suspense. I can’t handle any more surprises today.
Mum and Bobbi exchange a look.
‘We’ve found him,’ Bobbi says, throwing open her arms.
‘He’s here,’ Mum says.
‘Who?’ I say, completely bewildered.
‘Patrick,’ they say in unison.
‘Your soulmate,’ Bobbi adds dramatically.
‘Love of your life,’ Mum quickly corrects.
Oh my god. I see Mac’s eyebrows shoot up, and Hayley gasps.
‘There’s a Patrick at my wedding I don’t know about?’ Hayley asks.
‘Of course the Patrick thing is happening this weekend,’ Luke says in a resigned voice.
‘Who’s Patrick?’ Mac asks.
‘What does he look like?’ I say, before I can help myself. Please let him be wildly attractive. I need some good news.
The Patrick thing began right after my breakup with Joel, when the mums thought I needed to do something symbolic. Burn something, Bobbi had suggested. That was her go-to for everything. Mum had been against it at first, because she thought I would burn the house down, but then she warmed to the idea of me burning a picture of Joel as long as it was in a metal tub outside on a patch of concrete with the hose ready nearby.
‘Burning a picture of him feels very aggressive,’ I had said.
‘It’s the only way,’ Bobbi said.
‘Did you burn a picture of Dad?’ Hayley said.
‘No, I didn’t have to—I discovered women,’ Bobbi said. ‘That’s the best cleanser of a man you can ever have.’
Everyone looked at me.
‘I could try but I think I’m still attracted to men. I’m sorry,’ I said.
‘We work with what we’re given,’ Bobbi said.
‘I just want to feel good about myself again,’ I said. ‘I need some hope.’
‘Go to my hairdresser, get some highlights,’ Mum said. Mum’s solution to any crisis is highlights.
‘You know what you need? I heard about this excellent psychic,’ Hayley said.
‘Oh yes,’ Bobbi said. ‘My friend Evelyn swears by Sue.’
‘Yes! Sue! That’s who I’m talking about! For thirty dollars, she’ll email you the name of your soulmate.’
‘I am not getting some random psychic to email me a soulmate. I don’t even believe in soulmates,’ I said. The word had always grated on me but especially now post-Joel.
‘Fine. Not a soulmate. Think of it as…the love of your life,’ Bobbi said.
‘What’s the difference?’ I said.
‘It’s subtle but it’s there,’ Hayley said. ‘“Soulmate” can be a bit pathetic, but “love of your life” is romantic.’
‘Just hearing the name of someone else might clear your aura,’ Bobbi said. She is much more woo-woo than Mum.
‘She shouldn’t be wasting money on this,’ Mum said.
She had worried about my finances a lot since the breakup. And before then too. Mum and Dad both grew up without much money, and they have never lost that fear of losing everything in a moment.
‘It’s cheaper than highlights,’ Hayley said. ‘And more fun.’
‘It is only thirty dollars,’ I said.
‘Let’s email Sue right now,’ Bobbi said decisively. ‘We might have the name by midnight.’
‘Well is she legit or a scam artist? Because I think legitimate people give card readings and such things, not just shoot off emails willy-nilly. Let me see her website. I don’t want Anna caught up in anything dodgy,’ Mum had said.
Mum and Bobbi then proceeded to argue over Sue’s website and whether or not it was appropriately professional. I thought it less professional than I would have liked, but if the website was too slick, we wouldn’t trust it either.
When I emailed Sue, she wrote back with a form for me to fill in, which I did even though it felt like I was heading down the path of identity theft, and then she replied and said she could see my soulmate’s name right away, that it wasn’t always the case but mine was very clear, and she sent me the link to pay. It was ten dollars extra if I wanted the name right away, otherwise I could expect it within twenty-four hours. And another ten dollars if I wanted to know when I would meet him. I paid the extra twenty dollars. I was in too far. And then it occurred to me that she might email me and say his name is Joel and then I’d be really stuck. I watched my inbox with fear.
The email landed ten excruciating minutes later. Sue wrote a little preamble and then said, your soulmate’s name is PATRICK. And you will meet him in the next SIX MONTHS. The capitalisation made it seem like she was shouting it at me, which also somehow made me believe it.
Patrick.
Paddy.
Pat.
‘His name is Patrick,’ I announced. ‘I’m going to meet him some time in the next six months.’
‘Oh, I like that name,’ Mum had said. ‘And so soon! Do we know any Patricks?’
‘Caroline’s son?’ Bobbi said.
‘No, his name is Noah,’ Mum said.
‘Why did I think it was Patrick?’ Bobbi had her phone in her hand and was scrolling through her contacts.
‘I don’t know.’ Mum had her old-school paper diary out, notes spilling out the side.
‘Are you sure it’s not? Let me check Facebook,’ Bobbi said. ‘No, you’re right. It’s Noah. Would you believe I don’t have a single Facebook friend named Patrick?’
‘Keep looking,’ Mum had said.
I realised, too late, I’d opened a can of worms. Now we were on the lookout. We were hunting Patricks.
That was almost six months ago. Time was running out. I had only a few weeks left. We had come up empty on Patricks. I had marked the date in my calendar and it occasionally loomed before me like a haunted deadline. I had actually thought the mums had forgotten about it entirely or, more likely, given up, because no one had mentioned it in ages. Until now.
‘Who is this Patrick?’ I ask. ‘Please tell me it’s not a random man you accosted on the street.’
‘No. He’s the other photographer,’ Bobbi says. ‘Hayley booked that man with the ponytail, Drew, and he brought another photographer from his company to help him this weekend, and the second photographer’s name is Patrick.’
The mums never just said ‘Drew’, it was always, ‘that man with the ponytail, Drew’.
‘Okay,’ I say. ‘Let’s calm down.’ My heart is racing though.
‘He’s very good looking,’ Bobbi says.
‘And he’s single,’ Mum adds.
‘He has red hair, the good kind,’ Bobbi says.
‘His hair is lovely,’ Mum says.
They’re worried I won’t like his hair.
‘How did you find out Patrick is single?’ Hayley asks. ‘And, sorry, where did you meet him?’
‘He came to our house looking for Hayley and Luke, he got the addresses mixed up,’ Mum says.
‘We invited him in, and had a lovely chat,’ Bobbi says. ‘We talk to people. We’re not like your generation, that has to do everything through their phones.’
Hayley grips my arm in slight horror.
‘Anna. Don’t make that face,’ Mum says.
‘I’m not making a face.’
‘You have to be open to new opportunities, new people,’ Mum says. This has been her standard lecture for as long as I can remember.
‘I am. Why do you think I’m not?’
‘His name is Patrick ,’ Bobbi says, as if we’ve forgotten.
‘Sorry, what’s the significance of the name?’ Mac asks.
‘A psychic told Anna she is destined to be with a man called Patrick,’ Bobbi says. ‘And I know that sounds like nonsense, but actually, once you get to our age, you realise there are things in the universe we don’t understand.’
‘Like aliens,’ Luke says. ‘The US government released those reports that basically confirmed the existence of alien aircraft.’
‘Babe, let’s not do aliens right now,’ Hayley says.
‘And let’s calm down on Patrick. I’ll meet him at some point and we’ll see what organically evolves,’ I add.
I can’t let the mums see that I’m excited to meet him. I’m not sure I am excited to meet him. It’s whiplash, going from Joel and his baby to this. I don’t have the headspace to meet someone right now.
‘He’ll be at the rehearsal dinner. He’s taking the photos tonight,’ Bobbi says.
‘I knew I was right about buying you that bra,’ Mum says. ‘I just knew it.’
‘Okay, okay,’ I say, before anyone can ask about the bra. ‘Wait. You didn’t tell him, did you, about the…’ What are we calling it? A prophecy? No. ‘About the psychic?’
‘No,’ Mum says. ‘Of course not. That would scare him right off.’
‘Good.’
‘We did tell him a bit about you, though,’ Bobbi says.
Now I am the one gripping Hayley’s arm. ‘What did you say?’
‘We were just telling him the names of everyone in the bridal party, and we mentioned you, and told him a few relevant facts,’ Mum says.
‘Relevant to what?’ I ask.
‘What you look like, that you’re single too, and we showed him your book,’ Bobbi says.
Of course they did.
‘Very subtle,’ I say.
What if Patrick is my one chance at happiness and the mums have thoroughly put him off before we even meet? My book isn’t exactly seduction material. It’s about toxic relationships and murder. Well, technically manslaughter, but that’s not really any sexier.
‘You should wear that nice floral dress tonight,’ Bobbi says. ‘The backless one.’
‘I didn’t bring that dress,’ I say.
‘Or that black one with the very deep neckline,’ Mum says.
‘That’s Hayley’s and I didn’t bring it either.’ I am starting to panic now.
‘Well, whatever you brought I’m sure is fine, sweetheart,’ Mum says.
‘I didn’t bring any dresses,’ I add.
‘Oh,’ Mum says, and her tone implies this is a grave situation.
‘I didn’t know the dinner was super fancy!’ I protest.
‘It’s not, I’m wearing jeans,’ Luke says, but no one is listening to him.
‘What did you bring?’ Mum asks.
‘Black, high-waisted pants. They’re new. And a top,’ I say. ‘A nice top. Kind of sheer.’
‘Well, I’m sure you’ll look beautiful,’ Mum says.
‘You always do,’ Bobbi adds. The implication being, I’ll look nice despite my clothes. I want to explain the pants are sold out online after going viral, that they are coveted by women in their twenties, women younger and cooler than me, but I am acutely aware that Mac is listening, and Joel and Bianca could emerge from their room at any minute and I need to end the whole conversation before Mum circles back to the bra or Bobbi brings up the psychic again. So I swallow down my urge to defend the pants and simply say, ‘Thank you.’
Later, after the mums leave, Hayley finds me in the bunk room. I’m lying on the bottom bed looking at pictures of a model wearing the pants online, trying to reassure myself they are nice.
‘Anna, this is a sign. Not just the psychic stuff, which is obviously a sign. But also a second sign is that the Joel and Bianca news happened, and then having Patrick appear right after you find out about that, right on deadline. Like the universe is saying, here’s your happiness.’
‘I don’t trust the universe.’
‘You can trust it, this time.’
You’re not supposed to argue with a bride on her wedding weekend, so I nod and try to look like I believe her.