The Life Makeover Club

Chapter 33

THIRTY-THREE

Life Makeover Principle #11:

Surround yourself with positive, like-minded, and supportive PEOPLE.

Eat your heart out, Barbie! Miranda flashed a smug grin as she successfully zipped up her silver satin dress that she’d bought in the January sales last week from ‘Budget Glam’. She would have liked to have worn her ill-fated Leona Edmiston dress, but it had taken up residence on her dining table, having been converted to placemats by her mother after the devastating cutting incident.

Should this dress come to an unfortunate demise as well, at least she’d only be out of pocket sixty-five bucks, unless her shoes were damaged too, somehow. The silver sequinned peep-toes cost more than the dress, but she wasn’t about to skimp on footwear this time.

Miranda latched a diamanté necklace around her neck and slid on a pair of matching earrings. Their understated elegance stood out, and Miranda’s hair twisted neatly into a chignon completed the look. After a few extra sprays of perfume to hide the smell of fake tan she’d lathered on last night, she was ready to go.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Glad for the absence of stairs in her home, she simply walked out of her room to the front door, and opened it.

Matt stood on her porch, the sunlight giving a glossy sheen to his thick hair, his black suit perfectly supported by his well-proportioned frame. ‘Well, hello there.’ He smiled his infectious smile.

‘Hello, yourself.’

‘Silver’s your colour, you look stunning.’

Miranda needn’t have applied blusher to her cheeks; warmth escalated throughout her face, no doubt providing their own colour. ‘Thank you.’ She resisted a strange urge to curtsey.

‘Shall we?’ Matt held out his hand, and Miranda took it. ‘Now, try not to slip,’ he said, as she stepped off the porch.

‘Ha ha.’ She smiled. ‘There’s no way I’m falling over tonight, look.’ Miranda lifted her foot behind her, revealing something attached to the sole of her shoe. ‘Non-slip shoe patches. A friend gave them to me as a little joke after my fall (God bless Trisha!). It would have been nice to know about these things before that disastrous night though.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m sort of glad you didn’t wear them that night.’

Miranda looked into his eyes, and a spark rippled through her body. When they’d had lunch together back in December, she wasn’t sure if he had feelings for her, but something in the way the corner of his mouth curled when he smiled at her, and a sparkle in his eyes, told her he did.

Matt opened the car door for Miranda, got into the driver’s seat, and headed towards the busier-than-usual city traffic. With some of the roads closed for the evening’s celebrations, the trip took longer than Miranda was used to, but Matt had picked her up at the exact time they’d arranged, making up for the extra travelling time.

After utilising Miranda’s staff parking privileges, they got into the elevator, and when the high-pitched ding sounded, they stepped into the lobby of Harbourside Towers. The stairs to the first level were cordoned off with gold rope, and a man with greying hair stood nearby, marking people’s names off a list, before letting them through. Miranda waved to Pedro, looking glum at the reception desk, then approached the stairs with Matt. They each received a Harbourside stamp on their wrist, ensuring them entry to the Ballroom above.

At the top of the stairs, David Oaks was in line with a woman hanging from his arm. As Matt and Miranda approached, the couple turned around. It wasn’t Martini with David this time. So much for the future of Brandy, Tequila, and Scotch , she thought.

‘Miranda, you look lovely. I’d like you to meet India.’ His girlfriend nodded a hello.

India ... nice name. So, David’s given up the alcoholic beverage in favour of a country now. Miranda imagined their kids might be called Peru, China, or even Turkey. But, if the relationship didn’t last, maybe next time he’d date someone named after a sports car. Porsche, Mercedes, or perhaps Holden – now that’d be a first.

Miranda proudly introduced Matt, and they made their way into the ballroom. Before taking in the beautiful ambience, Miranda quickly checked the seating arrangements. I knew it! David and India were to be sharing a table with her and Matt. When booking into the ball, they’d had the option of listing the names of friends they wished to be seated with, so Miranda listed Trisha and Shane, and Pete and Cara. Each table seated eight, however, making room for two more people.

Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, Miranda discreetly snatched the name cards belonging to David and India, swapping them with a couple of others from a table nearby. Mr Gordon Bannister and Mrs Barbara Bannister would now be joining Miranda and her friends, while David and India made new friends with the poor buggers on the other table.

‘Making a few adjustments to the seating arrangements?’ enquired Matt.

‘Sorry, I used to work with David, and I’d rather not sit with him. We don’t exactly get along.’ Miranda hoped Matt wouldn’t think of her as petty or snobbish.

‘Fair enough. He did seem like a bit of a tosser, to be honest.’

Miranda laughed. ‘I love your honesty. Oh, there’re my friends, c’mon, I’ll introduce you.’ She hooked her arm under his, and headed towards Trisha and Shane.

After introductions and handshakes, Trisha winked at Miranda in approval, mouthing ‘he’s gorgeous’ while Matt talked to Shane. Miranda mouthed ‘Shhh!’ back to her.

‘I hear you have a new job, Miranda, when do you start?’ asked Shane.

‘The day after tomorrow.’

‘Better not overdo it tonight then, huh? ’

‘Me? Overdo things? Never!’ She shook her head in an exaggerated way.

‘Just stay away from the stairs, okay?’ Shane teased.

‘I’m never gonna live that down, am I?’ Miranda chuckled, then noticed Trisha looked strange. Miranda thought she was trying to stop herself from laughing, but realised she was trying to stop herself from throwing up. Trisha dashed off.

‘Is she alright?’ asked Matt.

Shane shifted on the spot. ‘Yeah, she’s alright. Miranda, she wanted to tell you herself, but...’

‘She’s pregnant?’

Shane nodded and grinned.

‘Yes!’ Miranda went to jump on the spot, then remembered she was in heels and opted for a safe little side-to-side jig.

‘Congratulations, mate.’ Matt held out his hand to Shane.

‘Cheers, mate. I’m stoked.’

Trisha wandered back, covering her pale face with her hand. ‘I’m sorry! Geez, how embarrassing.’

Miranda grasped Trisha’s shoulders, her heart filling with joy. ‘I’m so happy for you!’

‘I see you told them.’ Trisha looked at her husband.

‘It was kind of obvious, honey.’

Trisha smiled. ‘Anyway, I feel much better now, although it seems to come in waves on the hour, so if you see me run off again at about eight pm, you know where I am.’

‘Ginger tablets might help,’ Matt suggested.

‘Oh, thanks. I’ll try some.’

‘Matt’s a nurse,’ Miranda explained. Trisha already knew this, of course, Miranda having spilled the beans on all the details of her hospital experience and chance encounter with Matt at Byron Bay. ‘Trisha, why don’t you go and have a seat, we’re sitting at that table over there.’ She pointed.

They all turned to go over to the table, when someone tapped on Miranda’s shoulder. She spun around to see a beautiful woman in blue.

‘Cara!’ Miranda exclaimed. ‘You look gorgeous! That colour really brings out your eyes, and those earrings – wow!’

‘You like them? Pete’s Christmas present to me.’

‘A man of good taste.’ Miranda nodded at Pete. ‘You must be Pete, it’s great to meet you.’

‘Likewise, Miranda.’ They shook hands.

‘Matt, is that you, buddy?’ Pete looked over Miranda’s shoulder.

‘Pete! I didn’t know you guys were coming here tonight,’ Matt replied.

Cara’s mouth fell open as she looked from Matt to Miranda, then from Miranda to Matt. ‘Are you two ... here together?’ she asked.

Miranda and Matt nodded. ‘You all know each other?’ Miranda asked, her eyebrows raised.

More nodding.

‘Pete and I met through the hospital, we’ve known each other a few years,’ Matt explained to Miranda.

‘Yeah, he takes over the job from where I finish. So, how did you two meet?’ Pete asked.

Matt and Miranda exchanged awkward glances. ‘Ah, we met at the hospital too, didn’t we?’

‘That’s right. I was a patient, and ah...’

‘I was on duty at the time, so we...’

‘...obviously introduced ourselves, well, the paramedics who brought me in made the introduction on my behalf, but Matt... ’

‘I ah, looked after Miranda for a while, but then I had to leave, so another nurse took over and then we...’

‘...bumped into each other a couple of months later at Byron Bay...’

‘...and again in Sydney, and so – here we are!’

Pete and Cara’s heads finally stopped swivelling from side to side. ‘That’s when you broke your ribs?’ asked Cara, and Miranda nodded. ‘So, was Matt the one who –’

‘Initiated the incident with the scissors? Correct.’

‘Am I missing something here?’ Pete’s brow was furrowed.

‘Let’s just say, Miranda wasn’t too happy with me that night at hospital, but we’ve made amends now.’ Matt smiled at Miranda, as she fiddled with her necklace.

‘Let’s take our seats now, shall we?’ Miranda held an open palm in the direction of their table, where she noticed a confused-looking David searching for his seat. He saw her coming, and a look of understanding appeared on his face. Miranda put him out of his misery by pointing towards the other table. David held up his hands in defeat, then winked at her.

As Matt and Pete chatted about the upcoming Australian Open, Cara pulled Miranda aside. ‘This is amazing!’ she said.

‘I know! Who would have thought you two knew each other?’

‘It’s not just that.’ Cara leaned close to Miranda’s ear. ‘Matt’s the guy I was going to set you up on a blind date with!’

Miranda’s jaw dropped. ‘You mean, the offer I declined after my disaster non-date with Simon?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Whoa! What a coincidence.’ Suddenly, Miranda remembered the book she’d read, ‘Secrets of Destiny’, which said coincidences didn’t exist.

As if reading her mind, Cara said, ‘Coincidences don’t exist, remember? You taught me that. Think about it – If you hadn’t had the accident, you wouldn’t have met Matt that night, but, also, if you hadn’t had the accident, you might have accepted my offer for the blind date, so you would have met him anyway. Either way, you two were supposed to meet.’

‘You think?’

‘I don’t think, I know. Plus, you should have seen the way he looked at you before, he –’

Cara stopped talking when Matt turned to face them. ‘So, how do you know Miranda, Cara?’

Cara and Miranda swapped looks, then said in unison: ‘We met at the gym.’

The MC’s voice over the microphone interrupted their conversation, telling everyone to take their seats. As the noise of people talking gradually dwindled, Miranda took in her surroundings for the first time since she’d arrived. Round tables were decorated with crisp white tablecloths, and clusters of silver stars protruded from a ball-shaped centrepiece. The cutlery shone and twinkled in collaboration with the stars, and each guest had a small box containing chocolates near their name card. The stand out feature was the giant mirror ball, suspended from the ceiling. Miranda gazed up at each tiny mosaic square, joining forces in reflecting the three-hundred-and-sixty-degree panorama of the Harbourside Towers Ballroom. An awesome sight.

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Liz Ashford said, as she paused near Miranda on the way to her table .

‘Liz! So glad you could make it.’ The two women hugged.

‘You know, each one of those mosaic squares up there is like each of us, in a way. All part of something bigger, yet each reflecting different views on the world, and shining our light in our own unique place.’

‘That’s a wonderful observation.’ Miranda was in awe of Liz’s unwavering ability to describe the wonder in any given situation.

‘You’re matching the decor tonight, Miranda, you look beautiful!’

‘Gee, thanks Liz! I had a bit of insider knowledge on the decoration plans,’ she said with a wink.

‘Oh, and this is my husband, Greg.’ Liz gestured to the tall man with a soft smile standing by her side.

‘Nice to meet you, Greg.’ Miranda shook his hand.

‘Likewise. Did you have a nice Christmas?’

‘The best.’ She grinned. ‘And you?’

Greg turned to his wife. ‘I think it was one of our best too, do you agree?’

Miranda found it cute when couples always checked their opinions with each other.

Liz nodded. ‘Every Christmas is a gift. We actually spent it under the stars, in a tent!’ She slid her arm around her husband. ‘Then a family picnic at the lake. It was simple and perfect.’

‘Sounds lovely. Though the closest I’d get to camping would be sleeping on the floor inside my house!’ Miranda almost squirmed at the thought of sleeping outdoors. She had gone before as a child, but, you know – bugs, strange sounds, potential rain, questionable bathroom facilities – too much stress. Then again, the idea of sleeping under the stars with Matt … mmm … maybe she could be persuaded .

‘Anyway, looks like we’re getting started, I better get to my seat. You have a wonderful evening.’ Liz touched Miranda’s arm.

‘You too. I might see you on the dance floor.’

‘Absolutely!’ Liz turned to her husband. ‘We could put those old dance lessons to good use, darling.’ They smiled at each other and scurried off as the MC cleared his throat.

Matt stood and held the chair out for Miranda. She smiled and thanked him, as a middle-aged couple, obviously Mr and Mrs Bannister, took their seats between Miranda and Trisha.

‘Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the twelfth annual Harbourside Towers New Year’s Eve Charity Ball!’ the MC said in a drawn-out voice, the ends of his words tapering gradually to an inaudible stop. ‘Entrées will be served momentarily, while you enjoy the live music. Before the main meal is served, we’ll award the winners of our lucky door prizes, and between dinner and dessert, we’ll begin the charity auction. After your delightful three course meal, our DJ for this evening will take over the music, and I expect to see you all on the dance floor celebrating the impending countdown to the New Year!’ The MC raised his hands. ‘Without further ado, please welcome our guest performer, James Favoli!’ He stepped back, clapping, making way on the stage for a broad-shouldered man with wavy black hair, and three back-up singers. The music started, and James began his rendition of the Black Eyed Peas’ song: ‘I Gotta Feeling’. Yes, tonight was going to be a good night, Miranda could feel it.

‘He looks a bit like that opera singer, what’s his name?’ Gordon Bannister spoke up. ‘Um...’

‘Pavarotti?’ Barbara Bannister suggested .

‘No, not that one. Um ... Oh yeah – Domingo! Placebo Domingo!’ He clicked his fingers in the air.

‘Not Placebo, darling, Placido !’ His wife laughed.

‘What did I say? Placebo? ’

Barbara nodded, and Gordon slapped his thigh with a guffaw. ‘Placebo! Ha! He only thinks he can sing!’

Barbara leaned back in a fit of laughter. ‘Oh, Gordon, that’s a good one!’

‘The placebo effect – get it?’ Gordon glanced at everyone around the table to make sure they’d caught on to his humour, before breaking into a fit of laughter himself. Trisha lifted a hand to her ear, as she was seated next to Gordon and his loud laughter, if you could call it that. With a cacophony of primal-sounding gurgles, growls, and snorts, he sounded like a caveman with a bad case of sinusitis.

Matt looked at Miranda and swallowed a laugh, and they welcomed the distraction of the waitress placing their entrées on the table. Scallop and avocado salad with honey-lime dressing got Miranda salivating, and Shane commented on how the balance of acidity and sweetness in the meal was just right. Trisha said he was always like that; providing commentary on every meal they ate when out, even at their wedding. Shane defended himself, saying once you become a chef you never eat a meal the same way again. Upon hearing Shane was a chef, Pete mentioned his idea for selling his homemade white sauce, and the two exchanged details with Shane promising to do a taste test.

‘That was delicious,’ Miranda and Matt said at the same time once their entrée was devoured. Laughing, they glanced towards the Bannisters. Gordon was helping himself to Barbara’s entrée, having finished his own. Barbara scolded him, slapping him on the wrist and sliding her bowl away from him.

‘Think of your indigestion, Gordon,’ his wife said. ‘You don’t want to overeat.’

If his laugh/sinusitis was anything to go by, Miranda hated to think what his indigestion would sound like. Wondering if she’d made a mistake switching their name tags with David and India’s, she glanced over at the nearby table. Nup . Six dazed faces stared blankly at David as he spoke, occasionally putting his hand on India’s back while she giggled. One of the guests nodded in feigned interest, while another kept checking the time on his watch. The Bannisters, although unique characters, appeared the lesser of two evils.

‘If I could have everyone’s attention, please.’ The MC commanded the stage again, after the entrées had been cleared from the tables. ‘It’s time to award our three lucky door prize winners. First up, we have a dinner for two here at Harbourside Towers Restaurant to give away. And the winner is ... Mr Rodney Davidson!’

A man appearing to be in his forties raised a victorious fist, and went up on stage to collect his prize coupon.

‘Our next prize is a two night accommodation and dinner package, also here at Harbourside. The winner of this prize is ... Mrs Trisha Hasbrook!’

Miranda’s mouth opened, and she clapped with enthusiasm in Trisha’s direction. Trisha stood with a wide smile, and was about to walk up to the stage when her stomach appeared to seize in and out. Trisha covered her mouth and ran in the opposite direction, towards the bathroom. Shane tapped his watch and looked at Miranda, mouthing, ‘See, always on the hour.’ He got up and took the prize on her behalf, explaining to the MC his wife was pregnant, which resulted in a roomful of applause after the MC announced it to everyone, just as Trisha emerged from the bathroom. Her pale cheeks were replaced by a red flush.

‘And now for our last prize; a week away for two at a five-star resort in Noosa, Queensland, with flights included. The winner of this fantastic getaway is sitting on a lucky chair. If you’ll all check under your seat, the winner’s chair has a red envelope attached to it.’

People shuffled and twisted, bended and grabbed, some lifting up their chairs, some crawling underneath to see if they were the lucky recipients. Finally, a victorious hand pushed upwards, holding a red envelope. The hand belonged to none other than David Oaks.

You’ve got to be kidding! Miranda looked at David, all smug and smiling, waving his prize in the air like it was Willy Wonka’s golden ticket. Looking in her direction, he sniggered, and Miranda felt bad for Mr and Mrs Bannister, who would have won the prize had she not switched their seats. If David had any conscience, he’d donate the prize to them later, but it was unlikely.

‘Isn’t that wonderful!’ Barbara Bannister leaned in to Miranda. ‘Lovely to see a prize like that going to such a nice young chap and his wife.’

Miranda choked back a rebuttal. ‘Have you and your husband ever been to Queensland?’

‘Us? No, my Gordon doesn’t fly; it upsets his indigestion and sinuses.’

‘Oh. That’s a shame.’ Relief relaxed Miranda’s muscles. They wouldn’t have been able to accept the prize had they won, so she might as well accept David’s victory and let him toddle off to India with Noosa ... or was that to Noosa with India? Now she was confused.

A mouth-watering dinner of roast quail with gingered vegetables was served, followed by a lively charity auction which saw Mrs Bannister secure a six-month ballroom dancing course for two, much to the chagrin of Mr Bannister. Liz had also donated a membership to The Life Makeover Club, which was won by a woman about the same age as Liz, who hobbled up to the stage with a walking stick and a big grin to collect her prize.

The DJ took over from the placebo singer and got people up and dancing. Miranda could see why Barbara was so keen to keep bidding for the dancing lessons; Gordon kept stepping on her feet while doing a strange kind of dance resembling the Heimlich Manoeuvre.

As if the music was his cue, Pedro appeared, ready for a turbo dance while he took a fifteen-minute break from his reception duties. He found Linda, bringing her over to Miranda, so they could perform their robot dance together. Pedro had taught it to them in the staff room two years prior, and it had now become an annual tradition. Cara, Pete, Shane, Trisha, and Matt formed a circle around the robot-humans as they did their thing. Miranda was embarrassed at first, considering she’d only known Matt for a short time, but figured if he’d seen her in her most unflattering underwear, messed up after a fall, and drugged out on morphine, he might as well see her do the robot dance. Surprisingly, he joined in. He sidled up against Miranda, moving in a stiff robotic way, and they danced and laughed together for what seemed like hours.

When the countdown to midnight neared, the DJ played a slow tune, and a warm shiver rippled through Miranda’s body as Matt slipped his hands around her waist. She leaned in close to him, butterflies in her belly as though she was back at a high school dance, except this time, her hands weren’t draped around the neck of Malcolm Brooks; her pimple-faced boyfriend of two weeks who reeked of cheap aftershave (and probably hadn’t reached the stage where he needed to shave), they were around the neck of Matt Cordella: a handsome, caring, successful man, whose skin oozed the soft aroma of tangerine, vanilla, and cinnamon. His breath was warm on her neck, and with each exhalation, her body seemed to melt into fluidity, swaying with him in perfect harmony to the music.

‘Feel like getting some fresh air?’ Matt whispered into Miranda’s ear. ‘Let’s get a good spot for the fireworks.’ They stepped out to the deck where other people had started gathering, and found a cosy spot near a tall fern, an oriental lantern hanging from above and its red glow creating a warm ambience. Despite being late at night, summer warmth and humidity filled the air, softened by a light breeze wafting from the gentle ripples of water in the harbour. Music blared from the stage set up near the harbour where crowds were packed in to watch the fireworks on the Sydney Harbour Bridge. ‘Are you ready for the new year?’ asked Matt.

‘Am I ever! This year’s been an interesting one, that’s for sure.’

‘Any regrets?’

‘Hmm...’ Miranda looked cheekily into his inviting eyes. ‘Only that I wish I’d slipped and broken my ribs earlier.’

Matt chuckled, flinging an arm around her shoulders. ‘Yeah, I agree. Although, I like to think that life has a divine timing, leading us to what we need, when we need it.’

‘And, has it led you to what you need?’

Matt turned to face her. ‘It’s led me to what I need, and what I want. ’

All nearby noise seemed drowned out by her heart beating, as Matt leaned in close, resting his cheek on hers, while delicately caressing her neck. The countdown was up to ‘eight’ by the time they realised, snapping out of their bliss to join in.

‘Seven!’

‘Six!’

Matt and Miranda counted down; their eyes locked together.

‘Five!’

‘Four!’

Matt whispered the rest of the numbers into her ear.

‘Three!’

‘Two!’

‘One!’

‘Happy New Year!’ the crowd yelled, and people jumped up and down, hugging and kissing each other. Music blared from both inside the ballroom, and on the harbour, and the vibrant colours of fireworks exploded into the sky.

Among all the ecstatic chaos, Matt and Miranda stood still, facing each other, eyes unblinking. With a smile, Matt tilted his head slightly, and the warmth of his breath merged with hers as their lips met. Soft, sweet, deliciousness swirled between them, and her cheeks tingled as he grasped them with both hands. There was no random music being conjured in her mind, nor did she need to imagine fireworks, because tonight they were real, and so was this.