The Perfect Gift

by Mark Stewart

  “KAITE, DO you think I could be mistaken for a man in this outfit?”

  Naomi’s best friend stared at her with doubt written in her grey eyes.

  “Comparing your figure to a man’s, no matter how hard you try you’ll never resemble a bloke. I wish I could have a figure just as good. How many times have I said you belong on the catwalk, not in the taxation office, or courtroom?”

  Naomi twisted and turned in front of the full-length mirror studying her new outfit. She’d bought blue denim straight leg jeans and a pale blue western shirt in a one-hour bargain sale from a small shop not far from the courthouse.

  “Are you sure I couldn’t pass for a bloke? The mirror says otherwise.”

  “What gives?” asked Kaite. Rolling off the bed, she walked over to the full-length mirror.

  Naomi’s eyes sparkled. “Does my shirt and long auburn hair clash?”

  “We’ve known each other since pre-school. In twenty-two years have I ever lied to you?”

  “There has been one time,” she giggled.

  Kaite poked Naomi playfully in the ribs.

  “I’m kidding,” she squealed.

  “Tell me the real reason why you want to look like a bloke. I thought you wanted to marry; have a quiver full of little arrows.”

  “It had been my plan.”

  “What’s changed your mind? Have you and Brandt been fighting again?”

  “Yes. He’s turned over a different leaf. He’s gone from a rich green colour to a rotting stinking brown.”

  “Care to explain?”

  “Not only did he turn into an obsessive monster, I asked him what he thought the perfect gift for a woman might be. I’m happy I found out the truth. He only wanted me for two things; a roll in the cot and his stupid advertising slogans.”

  Kaite pretended to vomit. “A bloke like him, you don’t need. How did he answer your question?”

  “He believes in his miniature brain a woman only wants plenty of money to spend,” replied Naomi flopping backwards onto the bed.

  “You’re joking?”

  “No. I was hoping he would be Mr. Right. He turned out to be Mr. Wrong. Kaite, I’m fed up. All men lie and cheat. I’ve given up on thinking a man could ever understand or even contemplate the meaning of the perfect gift.”

  Naomi walked to her seventh-floor apartment window. Parting the curtains using the back of her hand she stared out across Port Phillip Bay. It was the day before Halloween 2009. Twelve months to the day at their last Halloween party, Brandt finally asked for her hand in marriage. He officially announced it on an impersonal level. Everyone she knew received an invite to the party, her parents, his parents, Kaite, and of course all their friends. She did enjoy the party. Music sounded great. Food tasted terrific. She finally put the embarrassing announcement behind her by convincing herself it must have been his nervous nature. After the party, they sat on the beach watching the full moon slowly sink in the night sky. Sitting on the sand under the stars felt romantic. Falling asleep in each other’s arms till the sun came up happened to be a moment she wanted to cherish.

  Studying the lights of the city Naomi sighed away her disappointment. She indeed felt passionate over Melbourne’s nightlife. She lowered her gaze to the street below, focusing on the cars as they were driven at speed past the building. The people looked the size of ants. They were hurrying along the street totally unaware someone was watching their every move. From the moment, she and Brandt broke up, she lost the desire to party. She felt lonely to the bone. She wanted to meet an honest man. Brandt came across as a good talker. He respected her at first before turning obsessive. Failing to discover the perfect gift quenched her love for him. Could it be there’s no such thing? Naomi stared sideways at Kaite.

  ‘If you didn’t help me I’d have never made it through,’ she thought.

  Focusing on the West Gate Bridge, Naomi watched a ship slowly slip underneath its wide span. She saw the street lights start to blink on and grinned at their friendliness. Port Phillip Bay looked inviting. She imagined the long hot days to come when people flocked to the water’s edge to escape the Melbourne summer.

  “Kaite, somewhere out there a man must be waiting. I wonder if he’s lying on his bed looking up at the ceiling thinking where his, ‘Miss Right’ could be. He might even be wondering what she’s doing right now. Or maybe he’s being driven in a limo to a nightclub. Maybe he’s a pilot preparing to depart for America or London or Jamaica. I want to find a man who is strong, honest and fun. I want him to give me the perfect gift.”

  Kaite walked across the floor. She draped her arm across Naomi’s shoulder. Her free hand scraped her long auburn hair from her face. She leaned sideways and whispered in her ear.

  “You’re rambling. You must know you won’t find a man anywhere in Melbourne, especially at the tax office who has any idea on the perfect gift. I have a strong feeling such a man doesn’t exist.”

  Naomi’s pupils sparkled. “I need a change.”

  “You’re scheming something, what is it?”

  “Don’t worry; I’m not turning funny.”

  Naomi walked to her bedside table, opened the top draw, wrapping her French polished nails around a newspaper article. She marched back to the window, flapping it in Kaite’s face.

  “What’s this?” she quizzed, clutching the paper before it swung back and hit her in the nose.

  “Read the situation vacant column. Let me know what you think?”

  Kaite dropped the newspaper article to arm’s length.

  “I thought you told me the tax office is a great place to work. You love the job.”

  “I do. I love all those numbers. I live to work. I want to work to live.”

  “If you love the job so much what’s the problem?”

  “It’s like you said Mr. Right doesn’t work in Melbourne.”

  “You want to throw in the towel after two bad relationships?” questioned Kaite.

  “I want to work where Brandt has no hope of finding me. I need to feel safe from his obsessive nature.”

  Kaite lifted the newspaper again, starting to read. She looked up.

  “You’re going to work as a waitress on a cruise ship?”

  “No. My plans don’t include water. You know I can’t swim. Read the article underneath.”

  Kaite dropped her gaze back to the paper.

  “You’ve underlined the next job advertisement.” She threw the newspaper onto the bed. “The job sounds a little too drastic a change.”

  “It’ll be perfect,” chirped Naomi.

  “You won’t find decent men out in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Out in the Australian bush there are no beaches to drown in either,” stated Naomi.

  “Mightn’t be much water; what about the number of spiders you’ll see?”

  “I’ll be fine, thanks for asking.”

  “What about the notion you love the action of the city?”

  “The job’s only for two weeks. Besides, it gives me an opportunity to forget Brandt. I need time to clear my head. It’ll give me a much-needed rest. Two weeks of not thinking about a man who only wants me for his job or a roll in the cot is exactly what I need.”

  Kaite looked down her nose, shaking her head.

  “You don’t have to scold me,” whimpered Naomi, pouting.

  “How long have I told you to move on; to forget the bloke?”

  “It seems forever. I felt totally in love. Brandt eventually showed his true leopard spots. I trusted him when he said he needed to work late. I even made up excuses when I rung his mobile phone and Gina, his secretary answered. What makes me choke is the fact I discovered he took her to the place we called ours. It was where we enjoyed our first all night date and I gave him my heart. He called the place a sacred site. He knew how much I loved it. He wined and dined her in the Chinese restaurant before escorting her upstairs. Why take her to the restaurant where we first kissed? Every year on our wedding anniversary we were going to book o
ur room. It happened to be a beautiful place overlooking the bay. A bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket in the middle of a small round wooden coffee table. What upsets me the most, they slept together in the same room, the same bed we did. He promised to take me back to our room each year to celebrate our anniversary.”

  “Don’t start the tears again,” warned Kaite.

  Water started cascading down Naomi’s cheeks. Her voice began to falter.

  “He broke my heart.”

  “Get over it. You found out about the other women six months ago.”

  Naomi dried her eyes using the back of her hand. “I intend to forget all about Brandt. I vow from this day forth I will not give my heart to another loser. I will never make the same mistake again. I’m going to search for Mr. Right. If he can’t figure out what the perfect gift is, he can ride his bike into someone else’s life. I can guarantee she won’t stick around for long.”

  “Good luck. I’ve been searching for years to discover the right bloke.”

  “If I stay positive, surely the right bloke will enter my life.”

  “This job mightn’t be exactly what you have interpreted,” hinted Kaite, changing the subject. “Why don’t you look for a city job? There are a lot of nightclubs we haven’t been to yet. Or you could always take me to Perth. My bags are packed.”

  Naomi rolled her eyes, swiping the article off the bed.

  “I’m twenty-six. I’m in need of a holiday. The interview is tomorrow morning.”

  Kaite snatched the paper out of Naomi’s hand. “It says here a man going by the name of Mr. Earl Stanton is searching for a Jackaroo.”

  “Read on,” urged Naomi, sounding excited.

  Kaite dug her nose from the paper. “They want a bloke who has knowledge of office duties.”

  “The add states not essential.”

  “You’re overlooking one important fact.”

  “What?”

  “This Stanton character is looking for a bloke.”

  Naomi shrugged, diving into the wardrobe for a small suitcase. Her voice came back muffled.

  “I’ll be a Jillaroo.”

  Kaite read more of the article aloud. “You have to be at Moorabbin airport by 5:00am. You don’t get out of bed before 7:00am.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT