Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Jules
I arrive at the school on Monday morning to find Taylor perched in her usual spot by the gate, long legs crossed in front of her, jacket unzipped so everyone can admire her assets as she scrolls on her phone. I haven’t seen her since the parent-teacher night. Her sister has been dropping off her son while she deals with more fallout from her divorce. Whatever that means.
Riley tugs on my hand. “Bye, Mummy.”
I smooth her hair, but it’s a lost cause with the wind blowing strands across her face. “Have a good day.”
Shane claws at Taylor’s jeans. The coffee in my stomach curdles. I thought he was just a clingy child, but what if he doesn’t want to be with Riley? Is she too bossy with him?
Taylor prises her son’s fingers away. “Stop being a baby. Go inside with your friend.”
I open my mouth to tell him he can stay, but Riley is already dragging him towards the playground. My insides twist. Should I mention Riley’s bossiness?
Taylor pops her phone into her handbag. “How was your meeting with Hugh last week?”
I shrug. “Good.” I’m not ready to admit my daughter has possible behavioural problems or that she’s lagging behind with reading and writing. “What about you?
“Shane’s been slipping in all his subjects. I told Hugh about the divorce. He was very sympathetic. Even put his hand on my shoulder.”
I roll my eyes. “Taylor, there’s no way Mr Campbell would get involved with a student’s mother. Besides, I keep telling you he’s got a partner.”
“And I keep telling you, until I see a ring on his finger, he’s fair game.”
Mr Campbell strolls towards the gate. Put a kilt on him and he could be one of those highlanders from a romance novel. But he doesn’t make my blood stir or my heart skip a beat the way it does when Mick looks at me.
“Ladies.”
“Mr Campbell,” we both chime.
He stares pointedly at our cars. Any ideas Taylor has of Mr Campbell fancying her are just dreams. He’s not so subtly telling us to bugger off so we can free up the parking spaces for other parents to drop their children off.
I link my arm with Taylor’s. “How about we get a coffee?”
She bats her eyelashes at Mr Campbell, but he’s already distracted by another parent.
“Let’s go.” I tug on her arm.
“Alright. But I’ll wear him down. It’s just a matter of time.”
We tumble into the cosy Cuban café on Church Street, the howling wind cut off by the door swinging shut behind us.
Taylor shucks her coat. “Where the hell did that gale come from?”
“No idea.” I pull off my gloves and rub my hands together. “It’s icy out there. ”
A Staff Wanted sign hangs below the front counter. I scan the poster. It says there’s a vacancy for a barista and a server. Excitement blooms in my belly. The counsellor and my mother-in-law were right; I need something more to occupy my time. And since I haven’t been able to secure a job with even the most tenuous link to my degree, then maybe I should try waitressing. It earned me a lot of tips while I was at uni.
Taylor draws me further into the warm interior, and we settle at a table by the window. A server comes over, and we order two lattes.
“Make them strong, please,” I say. The woman nods and dashes away. I can see why there’s a vacancy. The place is packed.
“Jules?”
I whip my head around to find my bestie grinning at me. “Claire? What are you doing here?”
“Meeting Jake.”
Ah, that’s right. The police station is only a couple of blocks away. I scramble out of my seat and hug her. “Do you want to wait with us?”
“I’d love to.”
I introduce Claire and Taylor. It’s almost comical watching them size each other up. They’re both model slim, but Taylor never leaves the house without heavily applied make-up and her ample boobs on display, whereas Claire rocks the hot-girl-next-door look.
Taylor tilts her head. “And Jake would be?”
“My fiancé.” A cute pink hue stains Claire’s cheeks. She’s still getting used to how much her life has changed for the better in the last year.
“He’s a police inspector,” I add. “A very hot police inspector.”
Claire huffs. “Jules, he’s more than his looks.”
“I know. He wouldn’t be worthy of you if he wasn’t. ”
Claire’s eyes water. Time to change the subject before she gets all emotional. New love does that to a woman. I’m not so jaded that I can’t remember how giddy I felt in those first few years with Mick. “Shouldn’t you be working?”
“I am. I’ve just finished at a house that goes on sale this weekend and have another appointment in an hour. There didn’t seem any point going back to the office.”
“What do you do?” Taylor touches up her lippy, more concerned with her make-up than Claire’s response.
“I’m a property stylist.”
Taylor snaps the lid of her lipstick on, her interest clearly piqued. “I could do with your help. My husband and I are divorcing and need to sell.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Claire hands her a business card. “If you list your property with us, then I can assist with preparing it for sale.”
Taylor dominates the conversation, moaning about the designer dresses she can no longer afford. Claire raises her eyebrows at me. I don’t want to offend Taylor, but I understand what my bestie is thinking. If being unable to buy fancy clothes is Taylor’s biggest problem, her life’s nowhere near as awful as she makes out.
There’s a rush of wind as the door opens and Claire’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. Clearly, Jake has arrived. She bounds out of her seat, and Taylor and I are subjected to a make-out session. Not hardcore, but I’ve never seen my bestie eagerly embrace public displays of affection quite so passionately before.
Taylor all but trips over herself as her gaze eats up Jake in his dark grey suit. I kick her under the table. She glares at me.
“He’s taken,” I mouth. She glances at the rock on Claire’s ring finger and shrugs. It’s one thing for her to chase after Mr Campbell, but she has no business going after my best friend’s man.
I introduce Jake and Taylor. He holds out his hand and has to prise it from hers. What part of engaged is she not getting? But he takes no notice of her. His sole focus is on Claire. As it should be.
“You don’t have to sit with us if you don’t want to, Claire,” I say. “We understand if you and Jake want some alone time.”
Claire swallows and snuggles against Jake. They are so cute together.
I stand and wave my hands. “Shoo. There’s another table over there. You two lovebirds are more than I can cope with this early in the morning.”
Claire kisses my cheek. “You’re the best.”
Taylor frowns, but she’s outvoted.
“Nice seeing you again, Jules.” Jake tips his head at Taylor. “And meeting you.”
They reach an empty table with arms wrapped tight around each other. My heart aches to have the same connection with Mick. We had it once, and I hope we can find it again.
“My God, you weren’t kidding about how hot he is,” says Taylor.
I raise my hand. “Don’t even think about it. Jake’s head over heels for Claire. And you don’t want to test me when it comes to my bestie.”
Taylor practises her wide-eyed and innocent routine. “Of course.”
I don’t trust her when it comes to hitting on men. Although, it’s not like she’ll bump into Jake anytime soon.
Our coffees arrive, and we sip and talk. And by talk, I mean Taylor continues prattling on about all the luxury things she won’t be able to afford—nails done every two weeks, monthly spa retreats, Botox every quarter.
The more Taylor carries on, the more determined I am to get a job. Anything. My lifestyle may not be as extravagant as Taylor’s, but we share a single, very critical detail in common: financial dependence on our husbands. And I’m reminded of it each time I see the snark in my mother-in-law’s eyes, the one she hides from Mick. She thinks I’m freeloading. She always has. And it makes me so mad because I never planned to be dependent on any man.
On my way out of the café, I jot down the contact details for the job vacancy while Taylor argues with the attendant about the cost of her coffee. It’s not the type of work I want, but it’ll do for now. Assuming they’ll give me a chance.
Applying for a part-time job seemed simple enough when I did it. But now I’m here for an interview, it feels anything but simple. I never had to go through a formal process to get a casual position when I was younger.
“Please take a seat, Jules.” The manager, Tina, looks to be barely out of school. She chews gum and reads over my resume on her iPad, a silver nose ring winking at me with every motion of her jaw. “It says here that you were a server and a bartender while at uni.” She lifts her head and rakes her gaze over me. “How long ago was that?”
I grind my teeth at the underlying suggestion that I’m old. Sure, there might be fine lines on my face, but I’m twenty-nine, not sixty-nine. “Seven years.”
“And you have no recent experience?”
“I’ve had my hands full with my daughter, but she’s now in school.”
“A lot’s changed.”
For God’s sake, how different could the job of a server be today? “I have a degree.” I do my best to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “I’m sure I can learn whatever systems and processes you have in place.”
She smacks on her gum. I want to shake her and tell her to spit it out. That it’s rude to talk to someone while chewing. But I control myself. Claire would be impressed if she could see me.
“Why don’t you get a job with your degree?”
“Because I studied Egyptian archaeology.”
She blows a bubble. A goddammed bubble. She’s lucky it doesn’t bust and become tangled with her nose ring. If I land this position, I’ll be reporting to a child. “Not many of those jobs in Australia.”
I stare at the floor. Tell me the bleeding obvious. This is a waste of time. I’m clearly too old. I lift my head to tell Tina to forget it.
“You’re hired. Monday to Friday. Ten ’til two. You can start next week.”
I leave the café in a daze. I have a new job. It’s low paying, but there are tips. I swing around a street sign, narrowly missing three guys in suits. They give me a filthy look. I lift my hand to give them the bird, then think better of it. Instead. I wave and continue strutting down the street.
This is the first important step to gaining independence and sorting myself out.