28
I DECIDE TO tell everyone about quitting and my new bookshop job on Christmas Eve. Our two families always spend Christmas Eve together, and everyone is always in good spirits. I’ll just slip it in over the cheese platter and wine, I think. But we’re well into the cheese and so far there hasn’t been a perfect moment. Later, I tell myself. Hayley has the slideshow of our holiday running on Bobbi and Jean’s big TV and everyone is distracted by that.
‘Look at that snow,’ Jean says admiringly.
‘Who took all these pictures of you in front of Christmas trees, Anna?’ Mum asks.
‘Um, just whoever was around,’ I say vaguely.
‘That’s not like you. You always yell at me when I ask a stranger to take our photo.’
‘I do not yell.’ I politely cringe.
‘Who’s that?’ Dad says.
‘Who?’
‘That person beside you.’
‘That’s a stranger, Dad.’
‘Well he’s standing very close. I thought it might be that guy, Luke’s friend.’
‘Mac? It’s not. It’s a twelve-year-old boy.’
I have edited the pictures to remove any evidence of Mac except for a couple of pictures at the end, of him and Hayley, and one of the three of us eating lunch together.
‘That’s Mac, with Hayley there,’ I say. ‘You met him at the wedding, Dad.’ Dad has no memory for faces.
‘He’s very handsome,’ Mum says, looking at me meaningfully. I will not take the bait.
‘He’s photogenic,’ I say.
‘Oh, the three of you look very cosy,’ Bobbi adds, as the lunch picture pops up.
Hayley and Luke are silent, which is suspicious.
‘It was nice to catch up with Mac,’ Hayley says finally.
‘See, you like him now,’ I say to her.
‘I always liked him, he’s very likeable,’ she says.
‘She just doesn’t trust him,’ Mum says. ‘I don’t either.’
‘You don’t know him,’ I say.
‘I know that actors are not people to get emotionally involved with,’ Mum says.
‘I’m not emotionally involved with him.’
‘Oh Anna, please,’ Mum says.
‘What?’ I say, looking at their faces one by one.
‘We called Hayley one morning and you weren’t at the hotel room,’ Bobbi says.
‘So?’
‘It was 7 am!’ Mum says.
‘I was out getting bagels.’ That sounds like a believable New York lie.
‘Hayley said you were at the gym,’ Mum says. I look at Hayley, and she makes a face.
‘Well, I was doing both. I did a little cardio session on the bike and then I got us bagels with cream cheese.’
‘Darling. Please. Give us some credit.’
‘Okay. Fine. I spent some time one-on-one with Mac. There. You have your gossip.’
‘Good for you,’ Bobbi says, nodding, and picking up an olive. ‘Every woman should be with a celebrity at least once in her life. I’ve been with two.’
‘Mum, please don’t tell the cruise-ship story again—you know it makes Luke uncomfortable,’ Hayley pleads.
‘Mac is not really a celebrity,’ I add.
‘When you tell the story later in life, he will be.’ Bobbi winks at me.
‘It’s a total non-event. We agreed to never talk again.’
‘Why, was he awful to you?’ Mum says, her tone outraged.
‘No, he just lives on the other side of the world and we want different things out of life. We are passing ships in the night. So, a non-event.’
‘It didn’t look like a non-event to me,’ Hayley says, smiling, because she can’t resist adding to the gossip.
‘Oooh, tell us,’ Bobbi says.
I roll my eyes at Hayley, but she’s ignoring me.
‘They looked very couple-y to me, that’s all,’ she says, grinning.
‘It was just a holiday Christmas New York thing.’
‘What’s a holiday Christmas New York thing?’ Mum asks.
‘It’s exactly what it sounds like it is.’
‘It sounds romantic,’ Bobbi says.
‘It was,’ Hayley says. ‘They went to a magic show.’
‘Is that internet-speak for something else?’ Bobbi frowns.
‘No, Mum. Don’t be gross, they literally went to see a magician.’
‘Why are you suddenly all for it? You and Luke tried to sabotage it!’ I say to Hayley.
‘We what?’ she says, looking shocked.
‘Luke did anyway.’
All eyes swing to Luke, who is engrossed in eating cheese and scrolling on his phone. Dad and Jean have both moved to the kitchen to check on the food.
‘What did I do?’ Luke says, swallowing his brie and biscuit.
‘Mac said you told him not to be with me.’
The slideshow has looped back around to the beginning, and ‘Jingle Bells’ is playing again.
‘Luke!’ Hayley and Bobbi say at the same time.
‘I, well, I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘How did you mean it then?’ I say.
‘Well, it was a few weeks before you left for New York, and you’d just gone on that terrible date with that guy—’
‘What terrible date?’ Mum says.
‘You remember that guy I went to the Mexican place with.’ A few months ago, I had decided to give the apps one more chance and attempt a few actual dates. During one of them, we were seated in a booth at a restaurant. He had slid around so he was sitting right beside me, the lighting was low, it was all very intimate, and for some reason I was telling him about my childhood dog dying, and he took my hand in his. I thought he was being sympathetic, but as I kept telling the story, he slowly and carefully placed my hand on his crotch.
‘He needed to be reported to the police,’ Mum says.
‘Right. And you came home saying you were so tired of creeps, and why do some guys have to sexualise everything, and I remember thinking Mac seemed into you at the wedding, so when I spoke to him that night, I warned him not to try and make a move or anything,’ Luke says.
‘Well, thank you, I guess, but Mac is nothing like crotch guy,’ I say.
‘I know he’s not, but I wasn’t sure how wide a net you were casting when you said you hated all men and never wanted to be hit on again.’
To be fair to Luke, at the time, I was casting a very wide net. But still. He must have known that would never apply to his hot actor friend in New York. The hot actor friend in New York is always the exception to the rule.
‘Babe, that was sweet,’ Hayley says to Luke. ‘Misguided but sweet. I like it when you’re protective.’
‘I try my best,’ Luke says.
‘And we appreciate it,’ Hayley says.
‘We do,’ I say.
Luke turns to me, and he looks serious.
‘Mac is a great guy,’ he says. ‘He’s been my friend for a long time. I love him. He’s easy to love. But he’s always going to put his work first.’
My face is feeling hot and I can feel everyone’s eyes on me. ‘It was just a holiday thing, I promise. Nothing more.’
There’s an awkward silence.
Bobbi clears her throat. ‘Well. If we’re ready for a change in topic, Anna and I have something of an announcement to make,’ she says, which is not the smoothest transition she’s ever made, but we do need to tell everyone.
‘You do?’ Mum says.
‘The two of you?’ Hayley says, her brow furrowed.
‘Yes,’ Bobbi says. She looks at me, and I look at her, and the moment is dragging out too long—there’s too much build-up.
‘You’re looking at Bobbi’s newest employee!’ I say, throwing my arms wide. This is met with confused silence. ‘I’m replacing Sasha,’ I add.
‘You’re working at the shop?’ Hayley says, frowning.
‘What about your job?’ Mum says.
‘I quit my job,’ I say, trying for airy and cheerful.
‘What do you mean?’ Mum says.
‘I resigned and I’m not going back.’
‘Why?’ Mum says, with an edge to her voice.
‘Because I…I was unhappy there, and I needed a break, and I would rather do this.’ I smile at everyone in turn. No one is smiling back.
‘Do what?’ Mum says.
‘Work with Bobbi in the bookshop.’
‘Do you mean permanently?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Permanent part-time.’ I wonder if it’s too late to bring the topic back to Mac.
‘Is working in retail a smart career move?’ Mum asks.
‘Well, hang on,’ Bobbi says, looking offended. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It’s different for you, Bobs, you own it. It’s your dream. Anna is a single woman who is living on her own. Who has spent the past ten years building a career in marketing.’
‘I’m not on my own. I’m living with Hayley and Luke.’
‘I mean metaphorically. You are on your own in life. You have no one to pick up the slack if you can’t pay your bills, no one to share a mortgage with, or save a deposit with—’
‘Got it Mum, I have no one and nothing. You’ve made your point.’
‘Honey, I’m not trying to be horrible, I’m just worried—’
‘You’re always worried.’
‘I’m your mother. It’s my job.’
‘Do you know how I spent most of this year? Every weekday, getting up at 5.30 am. Writing for an hour. Then getting ready, going to work, coming home from work at six, having dinner, and writing for another hour or two. Then on Saturdays, writing for five or six hours. I’m burnt out from working so much.’
‘Well—’
‘And don’t tell me to stop writing.’
‘I would never say that,’ Mum says. ‘You know how proud I am of you.’
‘I want to try something different,’ I say.
‘What was it you said to me once?’ Bobbi says to Mum. ‘That it was okay if the second half of my life looked completely different from the first. That there was still time to change everything. And when you said that to me, I was married to a man and working an office job I hated, and a few years later I was in love with Jean and opening the bookshop, and I might not have done any of that without your encouragement.’
‘I know, Bobs.’
‘So why can’t you say it to Anna?’
‘Because it’s a different situation and a different time,’ Mum says. And then she looks at me, and softens. ‘You know I support whatever you want to do. I just want to make sure you’re sure.’
‘I’m sure,’ I say. I’m not sure, but I’m projecting sureness, which is almost as good.
Dad clears his throat, and I turn to him, braced for his disappointment.
‘Congratulations on the new job, sweetheart,’ he says, and I smile, relieved.
‘Thank you, Dad,’ I say, and I can see Mum is irritated, because she thinks she always has the role of bad cop.
‘So you and Mum are working together every day now?’ Hayley says and she doesn’t look entirely happy about it.
‘Well, not every day, she’s going to be covering some of Sasha’s old shifts during the week and we’ll do crossover on Friday and Saturdays,’ Bobbi said.
‘Why was this some big secret you were keeping from everyone?’ Hayley says.
‘It just happened a few days ago,’ I say.
‘You could have discussed it with me first.’ Hayley’s voice is rising.
Luke sits forward, sensing he might be needed.
‘Me or Anna?’ Bobbi says, frowning.
‘Both of you! It affects me too.’
‘How does it affect you exactly?’ Bobbi asks.
‘The two of you, spending time together.’ Hayley folds her arms. ‘I just…I don’t know. I would have liked to be consulted.’
Hayley has always been sensitive about this. Once, when we were teenagers, she accused Bobbi of liking me more than her, because Bobbi took me to see a movie adaptation of a book I’d loved. You’re supposed to take your daughter to the movies, Hayley had yelled, and it hadn’t mattered that she’d already told Bobbi she would rather be dead than see that movie, and that she’d never read the book. If I’d known you were taking Anna, I would have gone, she’d said. I would have hated it but I would have gone. It was the principal of the matter.
‘Have you ever consulted me before you did anything in your life?’ Bobbi asks her now.
‘Oh, please,’ Hayley says. ‘You know everything about my life.’
‘Because I snoop and pry!’
‘Hayls, it’s not changing anything. It’s just a job,’ I say. ‘I already spend heaps of time at the bookshop. I’ll just be on the other side of the counter now.’
‘Fine. Well. Good luck. Mum isn’t easy to work with.’
‘Excuse me, everyone I have ever worked with has loved me,’ Bobbi says.
Jean walks back into the room from the kitchen at that moment.
‘Dinner is ready. Shall we continue this at the table?’
‘Yes,’ I say, sighing, trying to think of a less-fraught conversation topic I can introduce at the table. Religion, maybe. Bobbi’s celebrity encounter on the cruise ship. Maybe Jean can tell us the most awful thing she saw in the emergency room this week. Merry Christmas.