Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
W ith Lexi at netball practice and Angus playing outside with Rupert, our black labradoodle, I shoved the groceries into the fridge and pantry, then sifted through the day’s junk mail, delighted when I spied a parcel from my mother-in-law. An early birthday present. Moments later, my delight evaporated. It was a book, imaginatively titled Don’ts for Wives by Blanche Ebbutt, first published in 1913.
Excuse me?
Was this Carol’s subtle way of commenting on the state of my marriage? I flicked through the pages, sighing loudly as I read old-fashioned advice such as not considering it beneath you to put out your husband’s slippers before he arrives home from work. Out where? In the garbage?
And another about not thinking you can each go your own way, but rather, pull together as a team. I stopped and considered her words. Pulling together and walking the same path was what Matthew and I didn’t do often enough these days.
I was sitting at the kitchen bench surrounded by several ancient photography portfolios, when my mother appeared.
‘Katie, I knocked, but?— ’
‘Look at these, Mum.’ I thrust an enormous folder of black-and-white prints of Central Park under her nose. ‘Remember when I won a scholarship to New York?’
Mum looked through the folder and read the lecturer’s comments aloud. ‘ Technical aspects outstanding; lighting and composition intuitively conquered… Looking forward to attending Kate’s future exhibitions… Natural talent in abundance… A star in the making. ’
‘How did I go from dreaming that one day my photos would be hanging in New York and Parisian galleries, to this?’ I gestured at my messy kitchen. The pristine white cupboards, white marble benchtop, and white appliances looked a sickly grey. Even the parquet flooring looked dirty and tired.
‘Birthday blues? You look sad enough to bring tears to a glass eye.’
My mother, Pip: always ready with a quick and colourful observation or three. I shrugged. ‘Remember Fern McLeod?’
Mum looked blank. ‘No.’
‘Yes, you do. I was at college with her. Anyway, she’s asked if I’d like to do some Christmas photography for one of the magazines she publishes, filling in for a couple of weeks. I said yes.’
Mum smiled. ‘Great.’
‘Yeah, but I’m worried about all the new technology.’
She made sympathetic clucking noises. ‘You worry too much. You’ve been offered an opportunity to do something you love. Enjoy the moment. But?—’
‘But what?’
‘Nothing, but you’ll be busy. Christmas is around the corner.’
‘Yes, well everyone will have to pitch in, I guess. Carol sent this for my birthday!’ I picked up the offending tome. Don’ts for Wives . ‘Is this meant to be a joke?’
‘Carol’s just trying to help. She’s from the country. ’
‘She lives in Adelaide!’
‘Speaking of birthdays, it’s only a few days away. Are you and Matthew doing something exciting? Painting the town and the front porch?’
I laughed. ‘Doubt it. He’s so caught up with pressures at work, downsizing, end of year retrenchments, he may not even remember. Not many people do, being a month out from Christmas.’
In the old days, Matt would never have forgotten. We always made a special effort for each other’s birthdays. One year, he surprised me by taking me to see the musical Mamma Mia , knowing how much I loved ABBA. We stayed at the Hyatt for a romantic evening and followed it up the next day with a full five-hour shopping spree. It was fantastic. For his birthday, I bought tickets to see We Will Rock You . Queen was more his speed.
In recent years, romantic gestures like those had fallen by the wayside, along with other intimate stuff.
‘It’s important you and Matthew spend time together, Katie. And I don’t mean the time you spend sorting out the kids’ schedules for the week. You need couple time to keep a marriage happy.’ Her eyes strayed towards Don’ts for Wives . ‘Strangely compelling title, don’t you think?’
‘Mum!’ I didn’t need to have this conversation right now. Besides, what did my mother know about happy marriages? My father had walked out on us years ago, and she hadn’t had a serious relationship since.
‘I saw your dad today,’ she said, uncannily reading my thoughts.
‘Really?’ I looked up.
‘I sort of ran into him.’
‘Ran into him? How? Where? Doesn’t he still live in Canada?’
Angus walked in, making a beeline for the pantry to fill up on whatever snacks he could find .
Mum reached out to hug him. ‘How’s my little guy?’
‘Good, Nanna. What’s to eat?’
After making multiple cheese and Vegemite crackers, I turned to Mum. ‘You were saying?’
‘I was at the art gallery, and we literally bumped into each other looking at the same painting.’
I pulled a bottle of soda water out of the fridge. ‘Hang on.’ I poured two glasses and took a large gulp before passing Mum hers. I gestured to the small kitchen nook overlooking the back garden, shuffled papers, books and an iPad aside, and we both sat. ‘I don’t know why you’d ever want to speak to him again.’
‘Katie!’ Mum shielded her eyes from the sun. ‘Obviously, I was surprised to see him, but it wasn’t as awkward as you might expect.’
‘Awkward? How awkward should I expect it to be for you to bump into the man who walked out on us almost twenty-five years ago?’
After Dad moved out, he happened to discover an intellectual and spiritual connection with another woman. Mum found out when, in an attempt to reconcile, she flew to Melbourne to surprise him. As it turned out, Mum was the one surprised. Walking into Dad’s suite at the Windsor Hotel, she found him and his intellectual and spiritual connection in bed together. It was three o’clock on a Thursday afternoon.
Dad later tried to explain to Robyn and me he’d fallen under the spell of a truly inspirational woman. It didn’t escape our notice that this truly inspirational woman was ten years his junior and had spectacular breasts and lovely legs. Soon after divorcing Mum, Dad married Miss Inspirational. Since then, my contact with him had been practically non-existent. It helped that his new wife was Canadian, so they moved to Vancouver. These days, I rarely thought about Dad and actively avoided thinking about his second wife .
‘That was a long time ago. It was lovely to see him today. Of course, he wanted to know all about you and Robyn and the children.’
‘Of course. That’s why he’s kept in touch so diligently.’
‘He did try, and I understand – and appreciate – why you and Robyn turned your back on him in support of me, but he is your father, after all.’
‘Don’t remind me.’
Mum looked out the window and smiled. ‘You know, I’d played the scenario in my head so many times – what our first meeting would be like after all those years. In the early days, I hoped it would be at his funeral.’
‘That’s more like it.’
‘But as soon as I saw him today, I realised I’m glad Bob’s alive. I have no anger for him anymore. I was happy to see him.’
Happy to see him? I couldn’t quite comprehend what Mum was saying. Or why she was talking so fondly about the adulterer who’d deserted her.