Three’s a Crowd (13 page)

Rachel looked at him. ‘Why was that?'

‘She worried that if we left it too long Sophie might feel different, set apart. She wanted us to gel as a family. I could see the sense of it, so I went along.' He took another swig of his beer. ‘Next time I looked up I was a corporate lawyer with a wife and a child and a baby on the way. And I've been on the treadmill ever since.'

Rachel detected a tone, and more than a whiff of frustration. She wasn't sure what to say.

Tom turned his head to meet her gaze. ‘Hey, don't get me wrong, it was great that Annie could be home for the girls, that she had that choice. It just seems to work out that in order for one person to have choices, the other person usually doesn't get any.'

‘Everybody's choices come at a price, Tom,' said Rachel. ‘Women choose babies, their career goes down the toilet. They choose career, they're loaded up with guilt at leaving their babies. No one makes a man feel guilty for going to work and putting his kids in childcare.'

‘True,' he nodded. ‘But that works against us as well. Keeps us on that treadmill.' He sighed heavily. ‘Now I'm on my own I'm never going to get off it.'

Rachel frowned. ‘Are things going to be harder without . . . um, without Annie's financial contribution?'

He gave a half-hearted laugh. ‘It wasn't much of a contribution, Rach – she didn't work a lot, you know. And she didn't charge enough when she did. I guarantee she was the only piano teacher in the eastern suburbs who would accept a home-cooked lasagne for payment, or a box of vegies from someone's garden.' He paused, draining the remainder of his beer. ‘No, Annie was the primary caregiver, I was the primary breadwinner. That was carved in stone.'

Rachel had never sensed this was an issue in their marriage;
in fact she'd never sensed there were any issues in their marriage. But then again, she hadn't talked to Tom like this while Annie was alive. Annie had never complained about Tom; even when everyone else was having the standard whinges about their husbands not helping out enough, not listening . . . the usual, Annie never had anything to say.

Tom was probably just feeling overwhelmed by the situation. He was perfectly entitled.

He got to his feet, picking up their empty beer bottles. ‘I'll get us another, eh?'

‘No, I should go,' Rachel said, standing up.

‘Really?' He looked disappointed. ‘You can't stay for dinner? I was going to defrost one of Lexie's casseroles.'

It was tempting, but she knew she should get out of their way. Tom needed to be available for Sophie if she decided to open up.

‘No, really, I have to get going,' said Rachel. ‘I've got stuff to do.' She picked her bag up off the step.

‘Then let me drive you home at least.'

‘Don't be silly,' she said, stepping down onto the footpath. ‘Hannah'll be getting dropped off soon, won't she?'

He nodded. ‘Are you sure?'

‘Absolutely.'

‘Okay.' He paused. ‘Well, thanks for coming over, Rach, I really appreciate it.'

She shook her head. ‘Don't mention it.' She looked up at the house. ‘It felt strange, coming here, without . . .'

‘Yeah.'

‘Maybe Sophie's just not ready yet, Tom.'

‘Maybe none of us are.'

She hesitated, not wanting to tell him what to do. ‘You should think about marking Annie's birthday somehow with the girls,' she said. ‘It obviously means something to Sophie, and probably to Hannah as well.'

‘What do you suggest?'

Rachel smiled and shook her head. ‘I can't fix everything, Tom,' she said. ‘You'll figure it out.' Then she turned and headed up the street.

‘So let's drink to Annie,' said Catherine, raising her glass. ‘And remember her fondly on this, the day she was born.'

Lexie was tearing up again, and even Rachel looked a little misty. Catherine needed to move things along.

‘So it occurred to me that Annie was the kind of woman who would have liked to have left some kind of legacy, don't you think?'

‘What do you mean?' asked Rachel.

‘Well, in the same way that she always wanted her life to mean something, I think she'd want her death to mean something.'

Rachel and Lexie were staring at her, unblinking. Uncomprehending. She'd better just spell it out.

‘I thought we should each do something positive, set a goal, with Annie as our inspiration. And we can help one another, it can be a bonding experience.'

Lexie and Rachel glanced at each other.

‘What kind of a goal are you talking about?' Lexie asked tentatively. ‘Do you mean we should run a marathon together or something?'

Rachel pulled a face. ‘God, really? Is that what you're talking about?'

‘No, no,' said Catherine. ‘Unless that's something you've always wanted to do?'

They both shook their heads emphatically.

‘And I'd rather die than bungee jump,' Lexie added.

‘Or parachute out of a plane.'

‘Oh I could so never do that,' Lexie agreed. ‘I mean, I wouldn't take that kind of a risk, I have kids.'

‘I don't have kids,' said Rachel. ‘But there's no way you'd catch me jumping out of a plane.'

Catherine rolled her eyes. ‘Excuse me,' she said, tapping her glass with a fork to get their attention again. ‘I'm trying to get you to look at the bigger picture here. When something like this happens, you can't help but think about your own mortality.'

‘Which is why I don't want to jump out of a plane.'

‘No one's saying you have to jump out of a plane!' declared Catherine. She picked up her glass and gulped down half of it in frustration.

Rachel was watching her. She knew the way Catherine worked. She had something specific in mind, but she was trying to lead them into coming up with it themselves so it didn't look like it was her idea. ‘Why don't you just cut to the chase, Catherine, and tell us what you have in mind?'

‘All right.' She took a breath. ‘Do you think if Annie had known what was going to happen to her, she would have done things differently?'

‘Absolutely,' said Lexie. ‘She never would have taken Ventolin, for one thing.'

‘No, I'm not talking about that. I mean, had she known she was going to . . . you know, that she was . . . that she was not long for this world,' Catherine said, grasping for the right euphemism, ‘do you think she might have . . . well, done things differently?' she repeated.

‘Like what?' asked Rachel.

‘Lived her life differently.'

‘No way,' Lexie said firmly. ‘Annie lived her life on her own terms, it's what I admired most about her.'

‘Well, there you go, that's why she should be an inspiration to us,' Catherine declared. ‘Can you say with as much confidence that there's nothing missing from your own life?' She leaned forwards. ‘If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what would you do?'

Lexie gasped. ‘I'd run straight home and hold Scott and the kids tight and not let them go!'

‘Okay,' Catherine sighed. ‘Let's not say tomorrow, let's say in one year. Or five even. What's missing from your life? What would you regret that you hadn't done?'

Had more babies, Lexie decided without hesitation. But she wasn't going to say that out loud. She had a feeling it wasn't what Catherine had in mind.

‘It's an interesting idea, Catherine,' said Rachel. ‘I suppose it gives us something to think about.'

‘No time like the present!' Catherine urged.

‘I can't just come up with something out of the blue,' said Rachel. ‘I need time to think.'

‘Then why don't I go first?' Catherine suggested. ‘I've given this a lot of thought.'

They both looked at her expectantly.

‘Okay, so . . . here's my idea. We need to find Lexie a job and Rachel a man,' she announced, quite pleased with herself.

Now they both looked at her gobsmacked.

‘But . . . I have a job,' Lexie protested.

‘No you don't,' Catherine said plainly. ‘You have a relationship. You're a mother. I don't know why people call it a job, no one's paying you to do it, and all it will leave you with is a gap in your résumé.'

Lexie was speechless.

‘I thought you wanted me to get a new job?' said Rachel.

‘I do, but with you I had to prioritise. One thing at a time.'

‘Well, I'm not looking for a relationship right now,' Rachel said firmly. ‘I'm just not . . . in the right head space at the moment.'

‘I understand why you feel that way,' Catherine said kindly. ‘But it's nothing that a good haircut and losing a kilo or two wouldn't fix.'

Rachel bristled. Despite her own unwavering belief to the contrary, Catherine was no oil painting. In fact she would probably be considered rather plain, if not for the monthly haircuts that cost the equivalent of a week's rent for Rachel. On top of that were even more outrageously priced cosmetics, facials, manicures, pedicures, waxes, eyebrow-shaping, and who knew what other treatments. Catherine was like a car that had been detailed; she came as close to being airbrushed as a living, breathing human could.

Lexie could throw on a shift and sandals, like tonight, and look stunning. Because she was still the right side of thirty and, despite having two babies, she was pretty and perky and . . . well, the right side of thirty.

Annie had been the one with the real style. She never wore what was in fashion, certainly never followed trends, but she was one of those people who always looked effortlessly fabulous, probably because she had seemed so comfortable in her own skin.

Rachel had also turned her back on fashion, though with less successful results. It had evolved during her years backpacking, when most of the time she had no idea of the latest trends – they hardly mattered trekking through Kazakhstan or trying desperately to keep warm travelling around the Netherlands on a bus in the winter. Comfort always won out over style, and that mantra had stuck.

‘So, are you up for it?' Catherine was saying.

Rachel considered her from across the table. This was so typical of Catherine; always ready, willing and more than prepared to ferret out the flaws in everyone else, but rarely able to turn the magnifying glass on herself.

‘What about you, Catherine?' Rachel said finally. ‘You haven't said what goal you're setting for yourself?'

‘I don't know,' she mused, sipping her wine. ‘It's a little harder for me. I mean, I have achieved, or I'm well on the way to achieving, all the goals I've ever set for myself – career, financial, personal. There's nothing really obvious, but I'll keep thinking about it. I'm sure something will present itself.'

‘What about your relationship with Alice?' Rachel suggested bluntly.

But Catherine waved that away. ‘Any issues between Alice and I are not going to be solved until she grows up a little. There's nothing more I can do. She's seventeen, I just have to be patient.'

And just like that, as though she was coated in Teflon, the idea slipped away without leaving the faintest impression, not so much as an oily smudge.

‘So this is not the best time to be looking for a job, Lexie,' Catherine continued, ‘right before Christmas, but we can start to work on your résumé, if you like.'

‘Catherine, I haven't even thought about going back to work –'

‘That's why you need to start thinking about it,' she insisted. ‘Riley's off to school next year, isn't he?'

‘But I still have Mia.'

‘You'll do far more good for Mia if you set an example of a strong, independent woman. Alice was in day care from when she was a baby. Honestly, you spoil them by giving up any aspirations for yourself so you can be there to tend to their every need. Life's
not like that, Lexie.' She shook her head, taking another mouthful of wine. ‘Kids today think they're the centre of the universe. That's why they all have such a hard time out in the real world. Some of the interns we get at the firm, you wouldn't believe the way they go on. They expect to be handling briefs from the first day, and they think filing and the like is beneath them. Honestly. Makes my hair stand on end.'

Lexie didn't agree with a word Catherine had just said. Not the intern part, she didn't know about any of that. But she refused to accept that she was spoiling her children by staying home with them, or setting a bad example for Mia. She would have liked to argue her case, she just didn't know how.

‘You know what Scott's hours are like,' she said instead, which was just making excuses. ‘I don't see how I could work around them.'

‘That's my point – why should you?' said Catherine. ‘Why should Scott's career come first? I repeat, what kind of example is that for Mia?'