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Authors: Tammy Robinson

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BOOK: A Roast on Sunday
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“Yeah mum, I do.”

“But it’s a Su
nday night,” Maggie pointed out. “What kind of idiot organises these things on a school night?”

“But
mum,” willow wailed, “it’s the last week so it’s not like I’ll be learning anything anyway. All we do in the last week is clean the classroom and run around the field a million times while the teachers get drunk and swap presents in the staffroom.”

Maggie raised her eyebrows and looked questioningly at Dot, who couldn’t quite
meet her gaze.

“Mum?” Maggie asked. “Where did she get that idea from?”

“How should I know? Probably something she saw on the TV.”

“Yeah right.”
Maggie was tired and could really do without going into town, but her daughters face reminded her of her new pledge to live in the moment so she smiled. “Alright then, go and get ready. We’ll grab something to eat in town.”


Yay thanks mum! You’re the best,” Willow ran over and hugged her quickly round the waist then thundered up the stairs to her room.

“Things are obviously ok between you two
again,” Dot said.


Things are perfect actually. And just so you and Dad know and can stop hassling me about it, she knows the truth.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

Dot clapped her hands together in delight. “Wonderful,” she declared. “This calls for a celebratory drink.”
She headed over to the cabinet they kept their liquor in and selected a bottle of whiskey.


Ug, not for me thanks.” Maggie shook her head. “My liver is begging me not to relive last night.”

Dot smirked. “I bet other parts of you aren’t complaining.”

“Oh god mum, don’t be so embarrassing.”

“What? I’m
just happy for you. It’s about time. Jack is a really nice guy.”

“He’s ok,” Maggie shrugged. “But whatever,
doesn’t matter. It’s over before it even begun.”

Dot frowned while pouring herself another measure of whiskey. “Why?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t hear him this morning. I know you and dad would have been listening from somewhere.”

“Oh right. That.”

“He made it pretty clear what he thought of me.”


And what is that, exactly?”

“That I’m some kind of pathetic victim
who is stuck in the past, obsessed with a drop kick of an ex-husband and who hates all men.”


That’s not what I heard.”


Are you sure you were listening to the same conversation?”

“He may have said something along those lines,” Dot admitted, “but that’s not what he really thinks of you. Anyone with half a
brain in their head can see he likes you. Why do you think he dropped everything to pick you up last night when I called?”

“I don’t know, to humour you? For some reason he’s got this idea in his head that you and dad are his new best friends.”

“Oh that’s sweet,” Dot was chuffed.

“Don’t be so pleased with yourself, I don’t think he
knows many other people in this town.”


He’s a lovely man and you could do much worse.”

“Just leave it mum. You didn’t see the look he gave me when he left.”

“You give up too easy, that’s your problem right there.”

“What do you want me to do? Beg him for another chance? I don’t think so.”

“Show him that what he said this morning helped, that you’re ready for a fresh start.”

“I don’t know. Maybe last night was all Jack and I were ever supposed to have.”

Dot threw back the last of her whiskey and murmured disapprovingly. “I didn’t raise you to be a quitter, Maggie May Tanner.”

“I’m not quitting mum, I’m just not going to make a fool of myself.”

Back in her room though, she sat on the corner of her bed and put her head in her hands. Last night had been wonderful. It was the closest she’d been to another human in such a long time, and had reminded her just how soul nourishing contact like that could be. But when she thought about the way she’d spoken to him this morning, basically labelling him an obsessed stalker, she felt mortified. Was she so out of touch with the world of relationships that the minute someone showed interest in her she suspected them of ulterior motives and accused them of such?

She crossed the room and stood in front of the mirror.
It wasn’t something she indulged in, usually too busy to make an effort with make-up, and of course there hadn’t been anyone lately that she’d wanted to make an effort for. She studied her face properly for the first time in a long time. She was surprised to see faint lines around the edges of her eyes. She smiled experimentally and was alarmed to see it made them worse. She decided it was time to start investing in a good anti-wrinkle cream, and also to start wearing sunscreen if she was going to be outside for any length of time.  She might have blown her chances with Jack, but maybe next time someone else asked her out she might say yes for a change.

Jack.

She sighed.

She was still furious with him for the way he had spoken to her and the things he had said,
even if he had been right. But when she thought of the way he’d looked at her on the porch last night she broke out in shivers.

“Mum I’m ready,” she heard Willow call from out by the kitchen.

“Ok I’ll be out in a minute,” Maggie called back. She looked in the mirror again and decided that she had nothing to lose by making herself look as presentable as possible. Rummaging under the sink she came across some mineral powder foundation she’d bought years ago on a whim, and a mascara wand. The mascara was a little clumpy, but she added a drop of water to the bottle and it loosened up. The effect was subtle, but she liked it. Under the sink she also found a curling spray, and she scrunched it into the end of her hair and watched them bounce up into appealing ringlets. Throwing on a red dress and a black cardigan she took one last look in the mirror. Not bad, she smiled to herself, and the wolf whistles when she walked out to the kitchen confirmed it.

“Thanks guys,” she smiled gratefully.

“Wow mum,” admired Willow, “you look so different.”

“Different good?
Or different hideous.”

“Good of course. You look
really young and pretty.”

“Why thank you my darling.”

“She’s right,” Ray said, kissing her on the cheek. “You look very beautiful my dear.”

“Thanks dad,” she smiled gratefully. “Are you coming with us to the carols?”

“Like I have a choice?” he grumbled.

“Of course he’s coming,” Dot said firmly, pushing him from behind in the direction of the door. “He wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

As her parents and daughter argued over who would have the front seat Maggie watched them, feeling a deep flood of love expand her ribcage. They may be an odd bunch, she thought, but they were her everything.

Chapter
fifteen

 

Lady Luck was on their side and they found a carpark down a side street just off Town Square and only a minutes walk away. Ray carried a picnic basket, Maggie a blanket and Willow carried the huge newspaper wrapped bundle of Fish ‘n’ Chips they had just picked up. Maggie was glad she’d had the foresight to call ahead and place an order, as it seemed everyone in town had the same idea for dinner. The shop had been packed with people waiting for orders but theirs had been ready and waiting so she’d only had to pay and collect.

As they walked the aroma soaked through the paper and caused their stomachs to growl hungrily; they couldn’t wait to set up their blanket and rip open the bundle.

Town Square had been decorated again; this time in the spirit of Christmas. Tinsel had been woven around the Angel Oak’s branches and fairy lights and Chinese lanterns were already ablaze. The air had that muted, hazy feel you often get with dusk in summer, like you’re looking at the world through a soft focus.  A stage was set up at one end for the carollers, and the Christmas manger set had been borrowed from the church and was set up to one side. In front of it a collection box had been placed to fundraise for a new manger. This one was going on fifteen years old and had been touched up with so many layers of paint that baby Jesus’ head was about five times bigger than it should be, and, due to a mishap with the white paint one year, the sheep now looked decidedly pink.

As they passed it Dot elbowed Ray and told him to contribute. He reluctantly fished in one pocket for a gold coin and
dropped it in the slot, grumbling about how he’d contributed enough over the years by paying taxes.

“Don’t be such a cheapskate,” Dot scolded.

They found a spare patch of grass from where they could easily see the stage and Maggie spread out the blanket. Ray had a bit of trouble folding his knees enough to get down but with a few grunts he managed it. Dot unpacked the picnic basket, pulling out paper plates, a bottle of tomato sauce, salt and some bread that she had already buttered back at home.

“Right,”
she announced. “We’re ready.”

“Open it?”

“Open it.”

Willow carefully pe
eled back the layers of newspaper, releasing the delicious smell of battered fish and salty chips into the air. They’d also got a few crab sticks, hot dogs and corn fritters.


Ohhh,” they all sighed contentedly, eyeing the feast.

Ray grabbed a plate and piled it high
and then he grabbed the bottle of sauce and upended it, squeezing a liberal amount over his food. Then he creakily got back to his feet.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dot asked him.

“If I sit on that hard ground for two hours you’ll have to wheel me home in a wheelbarrow,” he said, “I’m off to join the lads where it’s more comfortable.” Dot looked over his shoulder to where Sam, Fred and Trevor were sitting. They waved when they saw her looking and she waved back. Although she smiled at them she muttered at the same time through clenched teeth “Silly old men.”

“Hey I don’t insult your friends
.”

“Yes you do. Just yesterday you said, and I quote, ‘tell those crazy old biddies to stop calling during my afternoon nap’. Remember?”

“Well, they woke me up twice this week,” he complained.

“Whatever
. Go and join your friends.”

Ray left and the women tucked into their meal. As invariably happened whenever they treated themselves to fish
‘n’ chips, they all indulged far too much, and it wasn’t long before the three of them were spread out on their backs on the blanket, hands on tummies, groaning with the effort it took to even speak.

“Oh my god I can’t move,” Maggie huffed.

“Me either,” Dot moaned. “Willow, roll the leftovers back up in the newspaper so I don’t have to look at them.”

“Can’t.
Reach. You do it.”

“You’re younger and closer.”

“Yeah, but you’re rounder so can roll over easier.”

“Cheeky
girl,” Dot swatted out ineffectually towards Willow, who arched her body out of reach.

“I’ll do it,” Maggie said, managing to sit up on the third try. Truth was
, she was grateful for the opportunity to look around at the crowd. The local band were just starting to warm up their instruments ready to begin the carolling. Soon, twilight would set in and then it would be harder for her to spot people she knew in the crowd. Although there was only one person she hoped to spot, and that was Jack. She was hoping he had cooled off and would come to her to apologise, opening the way for her to explain why she’d acted the way she had. She figured he was most likely feeling pretty bad about how he had talked to her and she didn’t want to make him suffer for too long. No, she would gracefully accept his apology and when he made his next comment about the two of them having dinner or catching a coffee, as he invariably would, she would pretend to consider it for a brief moment, and then she would accept.

“Willow, go and get us some song sheets and candles,” Maggie said, handing her daughter a twenty dollar note. “One each is enough,” she quickly added before her daughter had even taken a step. She knew Willow; she would think the candles and spend the whole twenty.

Sure enough, “Aw mum,” Willow pouted.

“One each.”

Willow returned five minutes and handed over the candles and song sheets. Dot quickly scanned it and exclaimed happily, “Oh they’re playing all my favourites, how wonderful.”

“See anyone we know?” Maggie asked Willow casually.

“Like who?”

“Like anyone we know, friends.”

Willow shrugged.
“Kids from school. Harper’s over there somewhere,” she pointed to the right.


I’ll go and say hi later.” Maggie hid her disappointment.

The music started and they sang ‘Silent Night’ and ‘Jingle Bells’.
As they sang twilight deepened, and as the last notes of Good King Wenceslas fell away into the night air the Mayor, who was presenting, announced it was time to light the candles. Dot dug some matches out of the picnic basket and lit their three. All around them people did the same, and soon the Square looked like a blanket of stars, bright pin pricks against the inky night.

“It’s so beautiful,” Maggie said softly. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so content. She could feel goodwill and cheer
drifting all around them. She closed her eyes and breathed deep.

“Look mum, there’s Jack.”

Her eyes flew open again.

“Where?”

Dot gave her a knowing look.

“There.
Jack,” Willow called out. Maggie looked in the direction Willow was gazing direction, smile at the ready but then her heart skidded in her chest; he wasn’t alone. There was a woman with him, someone she hadn’t seen before. They were sitting on small deck chairs about six metres away, glasses of wine in hand, some food spread in front of them. They hadn’t been there the last time Maggie looked so must have been late arrivals. The woman was in the middle of saying something to Jack and laughing, and when she finished he laughed along with her.

“Jack,” Willow called again, louder,
before Maggie had a chance to shush her. This time he heard and looked their way. His eyes connected with Maggie’s and she smiled, but although he held her gaze for a few seconds he didn’t smile back, merely nodded a greeting. Then he turned his gaze to the waving Willow and finally he smiled.


Hey Willow, how’s your night going?” he called.

“Good thanks,
” she called back, “although we ate far too much.” She puffed out her cheeks and held her arms out like a barrel.

Jack laughed.
“Was that your sweet voice I heard singing before?”


Probably. I hope you’re not planning on singing though. We might have to move if you do.”

He laughed. “There’s the Willow we all know and love. It unnerves me when you’re nice.”

“Willow, don’t be so cheeky,” Maggie scolded.

“Leave her be,” said Dot.

“Evening Dot,” Jack dipped his head.

“Evening Jack,” she smiled back. “And who is your friend?”

“Mum,” Maggie hissed at her mother’s bluntness but Dot ignored her.

“This is Amy,” Jack introduced. “Amy,
meet Dot, Willow and Maggie.”

Maggie waited for him to make further explanation, such as ‘Amy here is my sister’, or ‘Amy is a friend from my book club’, something,
anything
to signal there was nothing romantic between them, but he stayed silent.

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you Amy,” she said eventually.

“You too,” smiled Amy. She was beautiful, with honey blond hair, startling green eyes the colour of jade, and a smile that was almost brighter than the candle she was holding. It was a genuine smile, open and honest, so as much as Maggie wanted to dislike her she found herself warming to her instead.

“You guys enjoy
the rest of your evening,” Jack said, in a tone that indicated conversation between them was now over.


You too,” Maggie mumbled. She turned away from Jack, her cheeks flaming. Who had she been kidding? No amount of makeup or curling spray could compete with the beautiful Amy. She wanted to pack up and go home, but Willow was watching her anxiously. She had sensed the atmosphere and was worried for her, Maggie realised. Yet another sign that her perceptive daughter was growing up.

“Are you ok mum?

“I’m fine baby,” Maggie plastered on a smile. She drew her daughter close into a circle inside her legs and nestled her chin on top of her daughters head. “Are you warm enough?”


I’m fine.”

“Well I’m a little chilly, so is it ok if I hug you in public? Or are you are worried someone from school might see us.”

Willow sighed theatrically. “Well, I do have a certain reputation to maintain, but just this once I’ll make an exception.” She snuggled back in against her mother.

They sang along to the carols, waving their candles and shaking them every now and then so the wax dripped off and didn’t run down through the cardboard circle to burn the
ir hands. Maggie tried really hard to ignore the fact that Jack was nearby with someone else, but it was like her eyes had a mind of their own, and every so often she felt them drag against her will to sneak a glance in his direction. She saw Amy laugh at something he’d said and place her fingertips lightly on his bare forearm, and Maggie was startled by the strong urge she felt to get up and rip the woman’s hand from Jacks body. She felt proprietorial towards him, which was crazy because the whole time she’d known him she’d been basically telling him to get lost.

Willow felt her mother stiffen. “Are you sure you’re ok mum? We can leave if you like.”

Maggie kissed her on the top of her head, pressing her lips tightly against her daughter’s hair. She would do anything to protect this kid.

“It’s ok
sweetheart, really. I’m fine. Let’s enjoy the carols.”

It finished just after eleven and ended with a fireworks display that made everyone go ‘
ooooh’ and ‘ahhhh’ appreciatively. There was a minor hiccup when one of the rockets exploded out of its packaging sideways and made a beeline right for the bench seat where the old men were sitting passing a hip flask back and forth. Dot laughed so hard she had to cross her legs so she didn’t wet herself.

“That’s the fastest any of them have moved in years,” she howled, tears streaming down her face.

“Way to show your concern mum,” said Maggie, trying hard not to laugh herself. She glanced sideways at Jack and saw he was also enjoying the unexpected show.

“Time to go,” Dot said.

“Pull me up,” Maggie asked Willow, holding up her hands. Willow took her hands and pretended to huff and puff with the strain of helping her mother to her feet. Once up, Maggie picked up the basket and Dot folded the blanket, shaking a bit of loose grass off first.

“Do we have to go already?”
pouted Willow, holding the leftover fish n chips wrapped in what was now soggy and cold newspaper.

“Yes
we do,” Maggie told her firmly, “you have school tomorrow miss, remember?”

“School ruins everything.”

“Yeah yeah, we’ve heard it all before,” Dot said, ushering her granddaughter along with a gentle hand on the back. “Coming?” she asked Maggie, who had stopped to linger. She was watching Jack and Amy, who were also packing up to leave. Jack folded the chairs effortlessly in one hand, and with the other placed in the small of Amy’s back he steered her in the direction of his truck.


Mm? I was just making sure we hadn’t left anything,” Maggie replied. She was amazed that her voice came out so level, when inside her emotions were whirling like a mini tornado, uprooting and damaging everything in their path.

She had been right and
Jack was nothing but a fickle bastard after all, she thought angrily. How quickly had he found someone else once he’d decided that she was too much trouble and not worth the effort? Less than a day, that’s all it took. She supposed that she should be grateful she’d found out the truth now before she’d made a fool of herself by letting him know she was actually interested. She wasn’t going to let him see that sight of him with someone else bothered her, so she marched determinedly ahead, leaving Dot and Willow in her wake, and she caught up with Jack and Amy underneath the big Angel Oak tree.

BOOK: A Roast on Sunday
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