Chapter 8
EIGHT
Grandma Joy’s Words of Wisdom:
‘If you don’t know what you’re looking for, how are you supposed to find it?’
‘I’ve only got three to look at, Mum.’ Miranda clicked ‘print’ on the real estate website. ‘There’s no need to come along, I’ll be fine.’
‘This is a big decision, Miranda, you want to choose the right place.’ Sue Sheppard didn’t give up easily.
‘It’s not like I’m buying, just looking for a cheaper rental.’
‘Yes, but it will be your home for possibly quite a while. Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be there within thirty minutes.’ When her mother had made up her mind there was no stopping her.
Rolling her eyes, Miranda uttered an ‘okaaay’ and ended the call, then added good listening skills to the list of qualities her ideal man would have .
According to The List so far, he would have to be:
1. Devastatingly handsome.
2. Successful in his career.
3. Eager to become a father.
4. A lover of fine food and wine.
5. Affectionate.
6. Funny.
7. Respectful and courteous.
Or in other words: Prince Charming times ten.
Miranda didn’t do things by halves. And her Passion Test was no exception. Why not dream big?
The workshop had gone over time because of Miranda’s exceptionally long list of passions, which took forever to prioritise. Although each member of the club paired up to do the process, Liz had to help her through it to move things along. Despite being disappointed at the idea of having only five top passions, the ones that eventually made the cut had her bubbling with excitement inside.
Miranda’s Top Five Passions:
When my life is ideal, I am...
1. Living a long and happy life with my ideal husband and healthy children.
2. Looking slim and attractive and feeling fantastic every day.
3. Working with celebrity clients in an upmarket beauty salon.
4. Enjoying regular gourmet meals and great conversation at award-winning restaurants.
5. Travelling with my husband and children to beautiful places around the world.
That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?
Of course, she had to somehow find the ideal husband, hope she’d be able to conceive, drop a couple of dress sizes, graduate from Beauty College, and earn enough money to eat out and travel regularly – or hope that her husband did. But Liz had said not to dwell on the ‘how’, but to trust in the power of the universe to show the way. All we had to do was discover our passions ( check ), have a clear picture of what we wanted from life ( check ), and make decisions in favour of our passions ( check – well , sort of. That was an ongoing process, and eating a family size block of chocolate twice a week didn’t exactly favour passion number two, but it did make her feel fantastic, which hopefully cancelled out the calories?).
Because she’d be moving out soon, Miranda resisted the urge to display her passion cards in shiny silver frames around the flat, so she settled for more portable locations. A small one in a credit card slot in her purse, a laminated one attached to her cosmetic bag, one Blu-Tacked to the sun visor in her new (old) car, and one as a bookmark for each self-improvement book she was currently reading.
Aha! As she took a sip from her water bottle, Miranda thought of another idea.
She wrote out her eighth (or was it ninth?) passion card, this time on a piece of paper, and wrapped it around her water bottle. Then she trapped it with layers of clear packing tape she’d been collecting for the impending packing-up-house adventure.
Unless she stopped drinking water (probably not, but she could always fill the bottle with diet coke), using credit cards (impossible), wearing make-up (totally impossible), driving, and reading self-improvement books, her top passions would always be visible.
‘So, which one first?’ Sue Sheppard asked her daughter as they got into Miranda’s recent purchase; a 1998 Toyota Corolla, complete with vintage cassette player, wonky air conditioning, wind-up windows, peeling paint, and a slight dent on the left side. Appropriately, the letters on the number plate read: ‘LOL’. It was all she could afford, and it seemed in good condition with low mileage, plus, it was almost silver. More of a pale metallic blue, but close enough.
‘This one.’ Miranda pointed her manicured finger to the print-out of a small but modern two-bedroom brick house; a manageable distance from work. Once settled she could search for a housemate to halve the costs. Or hope her future man would manifest and either move in with her or she’d move to his. Anything was possible! Excitement rippled through her body. The Club had already given her a boost of confidence. ‘The open house starts soon. If it’s the one, I might not even need to see the others!’
‘Of course you will, darling. For comparison,’ Sue stated, as they pulled onto the road, sun warming their skin through the windows.
‘I wish man-hunting was as simple as house-hunting. Just make an appointment to see them, check out their good points and problem areas, and walk away if they’re not right!’
‘Miranda! You shouldn’t be so fussy,’ Sue lectured.
‘I’m not fussy. I just haven’t found the right one yet.’
‘All I’m saying is, keep an open mind ... watch it, slow down!’ Sue shielded her face as Miranda stopped too close for comfort to the car in front.
‘Mum, I’m used to driving in the city, give me some credit!’ Miranda sighed.
‘Anyway, as I was saying,’ Sue continued, ‘you don’t want to wait too long before ... you know. ’
‘Before I have children?’
‘Well, yes. You know what happened to me.’ Sue lowered her chin, eyes looking up at her daughter, the way she did whenever they discussed ‘The Issue’.
‘I haven’t forgotten, Mum. And anyway, my six-monthly blood tests showed that everything’s in working order.’
‘That’s good to hear.’ Sue softened. For a moment. ‘Miranda!’ Sue was thrust sideways, her knuckles going white, holding onto the sides of the seat as Miranda swerved round a corner.
‘Relax, Mum.’
‘I wish this car had airbags.’ Sue took an audible deep breath. ‘Do you think you should ask the doctor to test your hormones more often, now that you’re almost thirty?’
‘I don’t think so, surely he’d tell me if that was necessary?’
‘Oh, you never know with doctors today, they don’t have enough time or energy for thorough assessments, let alone write legibly.’ Miranda knew her mother wasn’t the biggest fan of the medical profession. ‘I was devastated when I couldn’t give you a brother or sister, and more so when I told the doctors the same thing happened to my Mum, and they said it might affect you too.’
When Miranda first found out she may develop premature menopause, she thought, ‘Yippee! I won’t have to have periods forever!’. But when the reality sunk in, she realised the implications. Sue Sheppard was twenty-nine when she had Miranda, and tried to get pregnant again two years later. By thirty-two she was officially ‘post-menopausal’. While her friends were off having babies galore, she was getting hot flushes.
‘Well, Mum, I guess if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. I’m not about to tie down the next eligible man I meet, I’d rather it feel right , you know?’
‘Yes, I know,’ Sue whispered.
‘You can let go of the seat now Mum, we’re here.’ Two other cars were parked by the curb, the sleek black Audi obviously belonging to Rebecca, the ‘in-your-face’ real estate agent.
‘Hi, Miranda!’ Rebecca sprung on her as soon as she entered. ‘Let me get your details and then you’ll be free to wander around.’
The living room was surprisingly spacious and airy, and the kitchen had been renovated with state-of-the-art appliances. Shiny granite counter tops gleamed and LED down lights glowed within the glass display cabinets hanging high on the wall. The bathroom was a bit compact and there was no bathtub to soak in at the end of a hard day, but Miranda thought she could probably survive on candlelit showers instead, for a while.
The main bedroom had plenty of room for all her things, and the sliding wardrobe doors had full length mirrors, which she wasn’t sure were a pro or a con.
‘Miranda ... I just saw how much the rent is for this place. You can’t afford it!’ Sue whispered.
‘It’s a bit much, but I can cut back on my spending. And I have my study support payment.’
‘I know you, Miranda. Your idea of cutting back is buying new clothes twice per week instead of three. C’mon, let’s make a dignified exit before you fall too much in love with the place.’ Sue hooked her arm around Miranda’s elbow, leading her to the door.
‘But...’
‘No buts, let’s go. ’
Rebecca appeared from out of nowhere. ‘Leaving so soon?’
‘Um, yes. I have another appointment. But I love this place, I’ll be in touch!’ Miranda’s mother gently yanked her outside.
Rebecca followed them. ‘Oh, Miranda, I can’t make it to the twelve-thirty appointment on Hunter Street, so I’ve arranged for my colleague, Sam, to meet you there.’
‘Oh, okay then, thanks.’ Miranda got in the car. ‘See you at the next club meeting!’
Fifteen minutes later, they had quickly gone through the second house and were on their way to the unit complex on Hunter Street. ‘Did you see the mould in that bathroom!’ Sue screwed up her face. ‘And I’m sure there was something growing out of the carpet.’
‘Not to mention the fact that you couldn’t even open the front door the whole way before it banged into the wall. No wonder it was so cheap,’ Miranda added. ‘I hope the next one is better, although I still like the first one, if I could just – ’
‘Miranda, no.’ Sue cut in.
‘I wonder if this Sam woman will be as in-your-face as Rebecca. Rebecca runs the real estate agency, I met her at the Life Makeover Club, and when I was – ’
‘Uh, Miranda?’
‘What?’ Miranda pulled over to the side of the road.
‘I don’t think Sam is a she .’ Sue pointed across the road where a well-built man in a suit stepped out of a car.
‘Oh, my.’ They both sat frozen, gazes fixed on the gorgeous creature crossing the road. Snapping out of her trance, Miranda turned off the engine and manoeuvred out of the car in the sexiest way she could manage, except she’d chosen to wear ballet flats today instead of heels, which didn’t look as fancy stepping out of the car, especially with the car being a 1998 Toyota Corolla with peeling paint and a dent in the side.
‘You must be Miranda.’ His warm hand shook hers. ‘Sam Maxwell, nice to meet you.’
She smiled, looking into the most beautiful blue ... Wait! I’ve seen those eyes before! It was the Good Samaritan from the bookstore. The man who helped pick up the books she dropped when the bag broke. Oh God, please don’t let him recognise me!
‘Have we met before?’ A quizzical look appeared on his face.
‘Um, no, I don’t think so.’ Miranda swept a wave of hair over the side of her face in a pathetic attempt to conceal herself.
‘You do look familiar ... anyway, shall we go inside?’ Sam held out his arm and waited for them to pass. Sue grinned, and Miranda mentally ticked off her list: devastatingly handsome – check, respectful and courteous – check...
Inside unit four, the northern sun bathed the open plan kitchen and living room with natural light. The house, devoid of furniture, was an inviting blank canvas, waiting for new experiences to fill its void.
‘These units are only a year old, all occupied except this one. The landlord is keen to rent it immediately, hence the reduced price.’ Sam motioned for them to enter the hallway, and they walked into the main bedroom. ‘One of the best features is the walk-in-wardrobe.’ He slid open the door, revealing a generous storage space. Miranda and Sue exchanged knowing glances, and Miranda looked around in awe at the three-walled wardrobe with a built-in shoe organiser. Despite the small size of the unit, it was well designed, modern, affordable, and, well – heck – it had a shoe organiser!
The theme song for Mission Impossible interrupted Miranda’s moment of ecstasy. It was Sam’s phone. ‘Well, I’ll let you ladies get a feel for the place, and I’ll wait near the front door if you have any questions. Excuse me.’ He lifted his phone to his ear.
‘Two birds, Miranda, two birds.’ Sue nudged her gently in the ribs, smiling cheekily.
‘What? What are you going on about?’
‘Kill two birds with one stone.’ Sue gestured at the house, and towards the door where Sam stood.
‘Mum!’ Miranda held her finger to her lips.
‘Make sure you get his card on the way out, you don’t want to let this one get away.’
Miranda shushed her mother again. ‘Can we just focus on the house, please?’
After pretending to intelligently inspect the ventilation system, checking out the state of the kitchen appliances, as well as Sam’s backside, Miranda approached him. ‘I think this place will suit me just fine.’
‘Great! I’ll check up on the other interested parties, and give you a call as soon as a decision is made.’ He got out his notepad and pen. ‘Now, I’m sure Rebecca took your details, but I’ll take them as well.’
Miranda gave him her contact information as she twirled a few strands of hair around her finger, feeling like a schoolgirl being asked for her number by the captain of the football team. He handed her his business card in exchange. Yes! It had his photo on it! She tried her best to look unimpressed and slipped it into her bag.
‘This is going to be great, Miranda! You in your own place, all by yourself ... well, not for long hopefully, but ... oooh, it’s so exciting!’ Sue clapped her hands together as they waited for their meals to arrive at Cafe Corner.
‘I know, but I have been living on my own since Trisha moved out last month.’
‘Yes, but you’re in Trisha’s place. This will be your place.’
‘True. It’s time for me to stand on my own two feet, I guess. I’ve always relied a lot on Trisha. She’s kind of like the sister I never had.’ Miranda bit her lip, realising she’d hit a nerve. An awkward silence followed, thankfully broken by the arrival of Quiche Lorraine with salad.
‘Remember when I was a kid and we moved into that little house near Nanna and Grandad,’ Miranda changed the subject. ‘And I hung paper streamers on the tree outside to make it feel special?’
‘I do, and you were so upset a few days later when it rained. I didn’t have the heart to warn you that would happen. When you showed me the streamers, it was the first time I’d seen you smile since ... since your father died.’
Another awkward silence. They hadn’t talked about his death in a long time. Too many painful memories.
‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ Sue perked up. ‘Grandma and Grandpa will be visiting next year, in February. They’ll be in Australia for three weeks, then off to New Zealand.’
‘Oh, I can’t wait!’ Miranda bounced in her chair. ‘What about Aunt Charlotte? Or Mary and Gary? Cousin Helen? Can they come too?’ Miranda missed her dad’s family back in America. They kept in touch and had travelled there a few times, but it wasn’t the same. She was grateful though to have grown up with two loving grandparents here in Australia. Miranda had moved to her mother’s home country after her dad died, her mum needing to be near her own parents.
‘Not at this stage,’ Sue replied. ‘But a lot can happen in a year, so, you never know.’
A lot can happen in a year. Miranda hoped by February next year she’d have someone special to introduce to her grandparents.
Miranda pulled the last of the magnets and photos off the fridge, and her fingers lingered over the postcard Trisha sent from her honeymoon on Hamilton Island. Two lovers, cuddled together in a hammock by the ocean . ‘Having the time of our lives, see you when we get back, Mr Kinkerfoot, which sounded more like a putrid disease. Shuddering at the image her mind conjured, she ripped open the chocolate bar wrapper and bit into the smooth, comforting treat just as her phone rang.
The caller didn’t wait for her to say ‘ hello ’. ‘Miranda. It’s Sam Maxwell.’
Miranda tried extremely hard to chew and swallow, simultaneously trying even harder to get an understandable greeting out of her mouth that didn’t sound like she was some kind of farm animal.
‘Miranda?’
She gulped down the thick chocolate. ‘Yes, hi. Hi Sam. Sorry, I was just...’ stuffing my face with comfort food ‘...eating an apple.’
‘Oh. Well, I’m happy to say your rental application has been accepted, so if you’ll drop by our office as soon as possible, we’ll get things organised and arrange a moving date for you.’
‘That’s fantastic! And so quick, I didn’t expect to hear from you this soon.’
‘I don’t waste any time, I do what needs to be done to make things happen.’ Sam’s confidence was appealing, even through the phone.
‘Great, I’ll drop by tomorrow morning,’ Miranda said.
‘One more thing, Miranda,’ he said. ‘Would you like to have dinner with me on Friday?’
Oh my God. Miranda nearly dropped the phone. Passion Number One could be on its way to manifestation! ‘Oh. Um, okay. I mean, yes, that would be ... nice!’ Luckily, he couldn’t see her little happy dance.
‘Great! I’ll make a booking and get back to you with the details.’
Mrs Miranda Maxwell ... mmm, has a nice ring to it. She added ‘has a nice surname’ to her ideal qualities list after hanging up the phone, then brought the chocolate bar to her mouth and hesitated. She didn’t really feel like it anymore. She put it in a zip-lock sandwich bag and called her mother.
‘Mum, guess what?’
‘What?’
‘Two birds, one stone.’