Not Meeting Mr Right Read Free Page B

All
the other women in her ceramics class had photos
of their grandchildren. ('I just need one photo in my
purse, Alice.') She said she was the only Koori woman
without grandkids. ('It's our job as the matriarchs to
have families, Alice.') Now whitefellas I didn't even like
were on my case about it too.
    Dessert was being served and I moved four seats
away, so I could sit alone. Half the table, the 'responsible
homemakers and mothers', were outside, irresponsibly
sucking on cigarettes. Yeah, get lung cancer and who'll
look after your man and kids then? Dannie was happily
engrossed in conversation with two other women and
looking like she was having a great time.
    I repeated my mantra, I love being single! , over and
over.
    ***
    By ten pm I love being single! had become I hate
school reunions . The more I drank the more difficult it
became.
    'Here's one of Lulu as a princess and Davey as an
elf – aren't they cute?' Another couple of photos were
shoved in my face.
    I looked around the table at all the women, now
totally sloshed. It was their one big night out and
they were going to make the most of being kid- and
husband-free for a night. It was funny that I'd been
at all worried about what to wear to the reunion. My
'competition' hadn't worried at all. They might have
been happy with husbands and children and shared
mortgages, family holidays and family rooms, but they
also bore a few more laugh lines than I did, and some
were in need of serious tszujing from the Fab Five. These
minor details at least brought me momentary comfort.
It always bothered me to see women in bicycle shorts,
t-shirts and thongs out shopping, though I realised that
mothers had more important things to worry about
than coordinating outfits. It was okay to look sporty or
beachy, I thought, but not both at the same time, and
regardless of priorities and income, one should never
leave the house without a bra and lipstick. It was like
going to work without cleaning your teeth.
    'You haven't changed at all, Alice.' At last some
positive recognition! It was Leonie. We had been good
friends in Year 8 but then drifted apart. I faked a modest
smile.
    'Thanks, it's the eye cream and citrus face peels,'
I said, trying desperately to make my existence as a
single woman with a disposable income sound a little
less pathetic and perhaps even indulgent. If I could
make my life sound like an attractive option to just one
of these women I would be happy.
    'You never got that chipped tooth fixed, did you?'
    I gasped. My god, she wasn't complimenting me
at all.
    'Not that you needed to. It's like a signature look
for you.' I rarely even thought about the tiny chip on
my front tooth. It had happened in second class. I was
laughing so hard I hit my mouth on a chair. I usually
have to point it out to people, it's so not there. I was so
pissed off that I felt like chipping her tooth, the married,
mortgaged, motherly bitch!
    Dannie could see I was distressed, having difficulty
just being there, let alone having a good time. She
handed me a glass of water.
    'Why did you come?' she whispered sympathetically.
    'You dragged me here, remember? You didn't want
to come on your own.'
    'Oh, come on, Alice. You've never done anything you
didn't want to in your life. You can't blame me. Why did
you really come?'
    'Because if I didn't people would've talked about me.'
    'Don't be ridiculous.' She was right. They wouldn't
have talked about me. They hadn't been talking about
anyone else. They were lovely women, and genuinely
keen to catch up and share baby photos and birthing
tales, because that's what normal women our age did.
    'I'm not normal!' I said.
    Suddenly I wanted my own special moments to
share: the moment when I 'just knew'. When I'd met 'the
one'. The wonderful roller-coaster ride from wedding
planning to broken waters.
    I felt a growing desire to fit in with this group, this
new community I'd never been part of. I was part of the
Koori community, my local community in Coogee,