Almost perfect, p.22
Almost Perfect, page 22
‘Today.’
‘Today?’ Louise and Nick chorused.
‘That’s right.’
‘Where?’
‘Here.’
‘He’s coming here?’ said Nick.
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘To meet you of course.’
‘I mean, what made him finally decide to grace us with his presence?’
‘Don’t say it like that,’ Georgie chided, pulling a chair out from the table and sitting down. ‘Actually, our relationship turned a corner last night.’
‘Yes, we know, you finally had sex,’ Louise said bluntly, wielding a wet facewasher at Grace.
‘Sex, sex, sex, sex–’ Gracie clapped along this time.
‘Shh! No, Gracie, no sex!’ said Louise, making eye contact with her and shaking her head firmly.
‘That’s right,’ said Nick. ‘Listen to your mother. No sex, Gracie. Sex is bad!’
Louise rolled her eyes as she lifted her daughter out of the highchair and popped her onto the floor. Grace toddled off up the hall.
‘So, go on, Georgie, you turned a corner,’ Louise prompted her. ‘Where did you end up?’
‘Well last night, Liam told me he’s in love with me,’ she said, finding it impossible to keep the smile off her face.
Nick folded his arms. ‘Well, I should hope so.’
‘We’ve only been going out a couple of months,’ Georgie reminded him.
‘Are you in love with him?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘So are you having a “relationship” yet?’ asked Louise.
‘That’s what I meant about turning a corner. It changes everything. We’re taking things to another level.’
‘Hold on,’ said Nick. ‘I’m getting dizzy. What are you doing, turning around or going up?’
Georgie sighed. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps we’re moving forward.’
Nick rubbed his eyes. ‘I hope you two have got a compass.’
Grace appeared at the end of the hallway. ‘Molly gone,’ she announced soberly, holding her arms out. She must have been searching the house for her sister.
‘Come here, sweetheart.’ Grace ambled across to her father and he picked her up onto his lap. ‘Molly stayed with Aunty Zan last night, remember? She’s bringing her home soon, okay?’
Grace was listening to him intently but her expression was blank. She always looked the same, rarely was she particularly impressed or particularly bothered by what anyone told her. They were never quite sure if she understood at all, or if she understood much more than they realised. Probably the latter.
‘Gracie outside,’ she said solemnly, before scrambling down off his lap. Nick stood up and slid the back door open as she toddled out.
‘So where is Mr Big anyway?’ he asked. ‘Didn’t he have the decency to spend the night?’
‘Yes, he did. He’s meeting me back here, and you’re not going to call him that when he does, are you?’
‘Call him what?’
‘Mr Big.’
‘What’s his name again?’
‘Don’t be smart,’ Georgie chided. ‘Liam had to go off and make some calls and . . . oh, whatever it is he does,’ she said dismissively. ‘So I thought I’d give you a heads-up that he was coming. See if I couldn’t help out some way.’
‘Help do what exactly?’ Louise frowned.
‘Well, I don’t know, I thought you’d give us lunch at least.’
‘But you can’t cook,’ Nick reminded her.
‘I know that, I’m not expecting anything fancy, it’s only lunch. I can chop and slice and stuff like that.’
Nick and Louise regarded her with suspicion.
‘You just want to impress your boyfriend,’ said Louise. ‘You’re going to slice a couple of tomatoes and tear up a head of lettuce and then when Liam arrives you’ll take all the credit.’
‘I’m hurt,’ said Georgie. ‘Okay, if you don’t need me in the kitchen, then I’ll clean the bathroom, or polish the silver–’
‘What silver?’ Nick frowned.
‘What makes you think our bathroom needs cleaning?’ asked Louise.
‘And when would you ever have noticed before?’ Nick added, raising an eyebrow.
‘This is because of Liam,’ said Louise, folding her arms. ‘You want to polish us, not the silver.’
‘What silver?’ Nick asked again.
‘Louise!’ Georgie declared. ‘It’s not like that, I’m just so excited that he’s coming here and Nick’s finally going to get to meet him. I don’t care about the bathroom, you know that. Don’t take offence.’
‘Too late,’ Louise said airily.
‘I’m the one who should be offended,’ said Nick. ‘It’s my housekeeping skills that are being brought into question here.’
Georgie leaned over and put an arm around her brother. ‘No one is being judged, okay? Liam’s the one who’s nervous. You should see him, he’s so sweet, he really wants to make a good impression. And I just want him to know how wonderful and special you all are, okay?’
Nick smiled at her. ‘I understand.’
‘So you will have a shower, wash your hair, shave?’
‘Okay, now I’m offended.’
Mosman
Anna stepped into the hall and picked up the phone.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, it’s me.’
She’d been surprised yesterday morning to find Mac still asleep beside her when she woke. He was always up before her. She’d left him sleeping but he had stirred as she was leaving for work. He claimed to be feeling better, maybe he’d slept it off. She tried to phone him later; there was no answer at home and when she tried the office she only got his voicemail. When Anna arrived home there was a note explaining that he felt fine and he’d ended up being called up to the Brisbane office. He’d be in touch tomorrow. She tried to phone him on his mobile then, but he’d turned it off, he was either on a plane or in a meeting. She left a message, that she hoped he was all right and he should try to take it easy. That was the best she could do, but it didn’t feel as though it was enough. Mac never got sick, he was always the one looking after her. She should have stayed home with him, but he’d baulked when she’d suggested that yesterday, shooing her off to work.
‘Hi Mac, how are you feeling?’
‘I’m fine, much better . . . thank you. It must have been a twenty-four hour bug, or maybe even a twelve hour one, if there is such a thing.’
Anna smiled. ‘I don’t know. Did you sleep all right? I tried to call.’
‘Yeah, thanks, I got your message this morning.’
‘So, is it hot?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Remember when we were there a few years ago at this time of the year? The sun was like a blowtorch at six in the morning. Did you get enough sleep?’
‘Um, yeah . . . look, sorry Anna, I can’t really talk now.’
‘Oh, of course,’ she said. ‘What time do you expect you’ll be home?’
‘Ah, I’m not sure at this stage. Why?’
‘You haven’t forgotten about the christening tomorrow?’
‘What?’
‘Matthew’s christening . . .’ Silence. ‘Rob and Stacey’s Matthew?’
Anna could hear the sigh all the way from Queensland.
‘I didn’t know anything about it, I’m not sure if I can make it back.’
‘Mac, you did know about it, I told you when we first got the invitation, and it’s written on the calendar–’
‘I don’t check the calendar at home.’ There was that irritable edge coming through in his voice again. ‘You should know that by now, Anna.’
She took a calming breath, she didn’t want this to escalate. ‘It’s Sunday tomorrow, Mac. If they’re asking you to stay, it’s only to play golf.’
He didn’t say anything.
‘I would really appreciate it if you could make it home. I don’t want to go to the christening alone.’
Another sigh, surrendering. ‘Okay.’
‘Thank you.’ She swallowed. ‘Look, I better let you know while I’m at it that Mum and Dad are flying in on Monday afternoon.’
‘What?’
‘They couldn’t get a flight on Christmas Eve. Besides, I think that would have been a little too rushed anyway.’
‘I wish you’d told me about this, Anna.’
‘You knew they were coming, I only just found out the details,’ she protested. ‘What’s the problem? Christmas is only a few days away anyway.’
‘But I have a lot of work to get through if I’m going to take any time off.’
‘So you are thinking about Noosa?’
‘I didn’t say that, Anna,’ he returned. ‘Maybe I’d like to visit my family seeing as you didn’t even factor them into our plans.’
‘I brought it up with you over and over, Mac, and you wouldn’t commit to anything,’ she added, annoyed. ‘Anyway, you didn’t even visit your family last time we were in Melbourne.’
‘All the more reason I should make some attempt to see them for Christmas.’
‘Well, what do you expect me to do about it now?’
‘Nothing,’ he said flatly. ‘I’ll make my own arrangements.’
‘Mac . . . you are going to be around for Christmas?’ Anna asked warily.
‘Of course I am. But don’t make any decisions about Noosa.’
Harbord
Louise came to stand beside Georgie at the window, wiping her hands on a tea-towel. ‘Looks like Gracie’s taken to him.’
Liam had arrived soon after Zan and Molly, and he’d barely been introduced when Grace took him by the hand and led him out the back door. They were out by the sandpit, where she had lined up a series of plastic bowls and cups on the bench next to him. She was holding a plastic jug of water and Liam would select a bowl or a cup, Grace would fill it with water and he would place it back along the row. When there was no water left in the jug, they would empty the bowls and cups back into the jug and start again. They were doing this very methodically, and apparently without the need for conversation or verbal instruction of any kind.
‘Well at least somebody likes him,’ Georgie murmured.
‘I like him,’ Louise insisted.
Georgie looked doubtfully at her.
‘What makes you think I don’t like him?’
‘Maybe because all you ever do is criticise him.’
‘I do not,’ she denied. ‘It’s the relationship I have the problem with, not Liam.’
‘Well, you never say anything nice about him.’
‘What do you want me to say?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Georgie, mildly exasperated. ‘Do I have to write you a script? How about, he’s nice, or charming, or good-looking . . .’
‘Girls, stop talking about me, I’m right here.’ Nick came up behind them, slinging his arms around their shoulders.
‘We’re not talking about you, we’re talking about Liam,’ Louise told him. ‘And Georgie, the first time he came into the shop, I believe I was the one who pointed him out to you.’
‘Were you perving at the customers again?’ Nick frowned.
‘Always.’
‘What do you think of him, Nick?’ Georgie asked.
‘You can’t ask a guy that, we’re not supposed to notice if another bloke’s good-looking. It makes us sound gay.’
‘I mean, do you like him?’
‘Can you rephrase?’ he winced. ‘Still sounding a bit gay.’
‘Who’s sounding gay?’ Zan asked, joining them.
‘Definitely not me,’ said Nick firmly.
‘We were just talking about Liam–’
‘–which is not only bad manners, but probably blatantly obvious to the poor bloke,’ Nick remarked. ‘I’m going to take him out a beer.’
‘And I’d better get lunch organised,’ said Louise.
Georgie turned to Zan. ‘So what do you think of Liam?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know, I’ve barely said two words to him.’
‘But come on, first impressions,’ she persisted. ‘What do you think?’
Zan sighed. ‘He’s not my type.’
‘Well, I know that. He is male, after all.’
‘You think it’s the dick that’s the problem, George?’ Zan never minced words. In fact, she generally served them up in a large meaty slab, medium rare, without any seasoning. ‘It’s not the dick. It’s the body attached, or more precisely, the brain that rules it all. But then that brings us back to the dick, doesn’t it?’
‘My daddy’s got a dick.’ They looked down and Molly was staring up at them.
Zan was unfazed. ‘Yes, he does. But we don’t talk about people’s private parts.’
‘You was.’
‘She’s got you there,’ Georgie muttered.
‘Well, we’re not going to any more,’ Zan said plainly. ‘Let’s go and help Mummy.’
Louise directed them to set the table. Zan laid out the placemats and napkins while Georgie followed her with the cutlery.
‘So you didn’t actually answer me before,’ she said, returning to the subject.
‘What did you ask me?’
‘What do you think of Liam?’
She stopped, looking directly at Georgie. ‘Okay, if you want to know the truth, I found him a bit stand-offish. He seems a little stiff.’
‘Well, he’s probably uncomfortable,’ Georgie defended. ‘Nervous, you know?’
‘Probably,’ Zan shrugged, continuing around the table.
‘He’s actually very talkative, once he’s relaxed. At least he is with me. He tells me everything. He says he can’t talk to anyone the way he can talk to me. And he’s got a great sense of humour, we laugh at all the same things. And he’s sensitive, sometimes a little too sensitive, which I find sweet. He’s works too hard, but he’s trying to get that under control–’
‘George!’ Zan interrupted her. ‘Okay, you like him, I get it. Why do you need my approval?’
‘Well . . .’ Georgie hesitated. ‘It’s important to me.’
‘You have to learn to make up your own mind, George. You’re the one who has to put up with him when all is said and done, not me, or any of us. I mean, I’m glad you all get along with Jules, but I couldn’t give a rat’s arse if you didn’t. I’d still be with her now.’
Georgie sat relaxed at the table, thanks to a full stomach and a couple of glasses of wine. Her arm was casually linked through Liam’s, and she had an overwhelming feeling of contentment. He was finally here, part of the family. He was not an illusion who had not survived re-entry, or whatever snide comment Zan had made that day. He was her real, live . . . God, she hated the word boyfriend, but there was no alternative. Grown adults had to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend because the vocabulary police had not come up with anything better. Partner sounded like you were in business together, lover was icky, there wasn’t a term to describe the male and female parties of a mature, committed relationship until you became husband and wife. Maybe that’s why marriage was still so popular. It solved the problem of what to call each other.
Liam wasn’t talking much, but he had been asking all the right questions, and currently Zan was spouting forth on her latest project, which would doubtless keep her happy. Georgie slipped a little lower in her chair and leaned her head against Liam’s shoulder. She felt his hand tighten around hers. She didn’t care if he impressed them or not, he wasn’t a show pony. Her family would have to accept him, they weren’t going to get a choice, because Liam was rapidly becoming the centre of her life, which was exactly how it was supposed to be. Maybe she was finally growing up. If Louise was ambivalent about him, that was her issue. The same with Zan. Nick seemed to like him, but Nick liked everyone. The only thing he would not tolerate was Liam hurting her in any way. But that was not going to happen.
Georgie just realised she’d heard the words insemination and endometriosis. Last time she’d tuned in it was roof trusses and north-facing elevations. When had the conversation taken this detour? She sat up straight and started paying attention.
‘So because Jules has all these problems, you’re considering IVF?’ Louise was asking. ‘Why don’t you just have the baby, Zan?’
‘Well, Liam,’ Zan said, turning to him. ‘What do you think of Louise’s proposal?’
‘I beg your pardon?’ said Liam, taken aback.
‘I’m asking, hypothetically of course, if men were able to have babies and your partner couldn’t have a child, would you be prepared to bear the baby?’
There was a grumble of protest around the table led by Georgie. ‘Zan, I don’t think that’s an appropriate thing to be asking someone you just met.’
‘Oh, come on, Liam’s a big boy, aren’t you, Liam?’ she said, not waiting for him to answer. ‘I’m simply getting the “other partner’s perspective”, and there’s no other man here.’
‘What about me?’ Nick declared, his voice a little high-pitched.
‘You may as well be a woman, Nick,’ Zan dismissed.
Nick put his glass down on the table. ‘Just because a man looks after the children and cooks, you call him a woman! I hope you realise, Germaine, that kind of jibe stereotypes women as much as men. And for your information, I can’t stand chick flicks, I follow football, and other sports as well. And I spit, and I don’t mean just in the sink when I’m brushing my teeth.’ He stood up. ‘Now excuse me while I go and arrange the fruit platter.’
‘He’s such a drama queen,’ Zan muttered as Nick walked over to the kitchen. ‘Anyway, Liam, what do you think?’
He went to answer but Georgie intercepted the question. ‘You can’t ask a man that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because men aren’t built to have babies, they can’t have babies even if they wanted to, so it’s hypothetical at best. Whereas in a same-sex female couple, either partner has the equipment, so it’s a completely valid question.’
‘Is it? I’m trying to make the point that there are certain expectations, defined roles, in any relationship, regardless of gender,’ Zan contended. ‘Just because I have the “equipment” doesn’t mean I want to give birth. Does that make me less of a parent? Half the parents in the world don’t give birth, but no one disputes their role because they don’t have the “equipment”.’
