Wife for Hire

by Dianne Blacklock

  Max considered her a moment longer. ‘What did you bring me?’ Sam could see the smile in her eyes as she picked up one of the paper bags. ‘Ooh, canoli. I love canoli.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Okay, I forgive you.’ Her face relaxed into a smile as she closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around her sister. Sam felt a great swelling of relief in her chest and tears sprang to her eyes at the same time as a sob unexpectedly escaped from her throat.

  Max held her by the shoulders to look at her directly. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘You didn’t really think I’d stay mad, did you?’

  ‘I was just so mean to you . . .’

  ‘Well, like it or not, I’ll still be your sister no matter what you do. So you’re stuck with me. And I’m stuck with you. And just so we have it straight, I’m not going to stop interfering either.’

  Sam smiled, wiping the tears from her cheeks. ‘I know.’

  Max plonked herself down on a chair and tore open one of the bags.

  ‘I’ll put these in water,’ said Sam, picking up the flowers and taking them to the sink.

  ‘So what did you do to poor Hal?’

  Sam swung around. ‘What do you mean? Have you spoken to him?’

  ‘No,’ said Max. ‘I can only assume by the mood you were in when you got to me, that something must have happened between you two.’

  ‘Oh.’ Sam crouched down, looking for a vase in the cupboards underneath the sink. ‘It was nothing really. I was just tired and frazzled, like I said.’

  When she stood up again with a vase, Max was looking at her, eyebrows raised.

  ‘What?’ said Sam.

  ‘That’s it?’

  She shrugged. ‘I was rude to him too.’

  ‘And what did you take him as a peace offering?’

  ‘I haven’t seen him,’ said Sam, turning away to fill the vase with water.

  ‘Why not?’ Max persisted.

  ‘Because,’ she sighed, resting the vase on the sink. She started to open the wrapping around the flowers. ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘What’s so complicated? It happens every day, all around the world. Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, girl likes boy –’

  ‘That’s when it gets complicated. Have you got any secateurs so I can cut the ends of these?’

  ‘Yeah right! Like I’d have secateurs,’ Max scoffed. ‘I’m not letting you avoid the question that easily.’

  ‘What was the question again?’ said Sam, scooping up the flowers and plopping them into the vase.

  ‘He likes you. You like him. What’s complicated after that?’

  ‘What isn’t?’ Sam sighed, shaking her head. She turned around and leaned back against the kitchen cupboard. ‘I could give you a list. I’ve got three children, he lives on the other side of the world –’

  ‘He lives ten minutes away.’

  ‘At the moment.’

  ‘So, live for the moment! What’s wrong with that, Sam?’ Max held out her hands in exasperation.

  ‘I don’t know how to do that, don’t you understand?’ Sam insisted. ‘I’ve been with the same man since I was a teenager. I’m as worldly as a seventeen year old who’s broken up with her first boyfriend. And just as fragile.’

  Max frowned at her. ‘But you always seem like you’re handling everything so well.’

  Sam shook her head, smiling ruefully. She picked up the flowers and brought them to the table. ‘I feel like a china vase that’s been broken and glued back together. And okay, the vase looks fine, you don’t even notice the cracks until you look up close. But you would never, ever use it again to hold flowers because you’re quite sure it would fall apart.’

  She set them down in front of Max. ‘Yes, I like Hal, and yes I’m attracted to him. But to follow through on that would be the stupidest thing I could do at the moment. I’m not the kind of woman who can just go out with a guy, see what happens. Maybe that makes me not very modern, I don’t know. But that’s who I am. I’m not like you, or even Rose, amazingly enough. I don’t want the freedom I never had, I wouldn’t know what to do with it. The thought of having sex . . .’ Sam took a breath. ‘It scares me to death. Someone seeing me naked?’ She shook her head.

  ‘Is this because of what happened with Sleazy?’ Max asked carefully.

  ‘Well, that didn’t help,’ Sam muttered. ‘But I try not to think about that if I can help it.’

  ‘You know,’ said Max, ‘I’m sure it would be nothing like that with Hal.’

  ‘Of course it wouldn’t.’ Sam sighed. ‘That’s the problem.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Don’t you see, I’m so naïve I’d probably fall hopelessly in love and expect it to last forever. And one day Hal will turn around and go back to the US, and I’m supposed to handle someone leaving me yet again? I’ve got three kids to look after. I don’t have the luxury of another heartbreak. I’m not that strong.’

  ‘Oh Sam . . .’ Max said sadly. She got up from the table and put her arms around her sister, hugging her tight. ‘You’re not ready, that’s all. I won’t push it any more. I just didn’t want you to miss the boat.’

  Sam smiled bravely at Max, much more bravely than she felt. ‘Anyway,’ she said, changing the subject and picking up the newspaper she’d brought with her, ‘I’m going to look for another job. No, more than that, a career.’

  ‘You go girl!’ Max cried. ‘Got any ideas?’

  Sam sat down and pulled out the employment section from the paper. ‘You’ll probably think I’m silly.’

  ‘So? Wouldn’t be the first time.’

  ‘Max! I need you to be supportive, please.’

  ‘Go ahead. I promise I won’t think you’re silly.’

  ‘Well,’ Sam went on, taking the lid off one of the styrofoam cups of coffee. ‘It’s probably a pipedream, and I suspect it would be really difficult to get into. I mean, I have no idea how you’d even go about it. You probably have to know someone, and I don’t know anyone. Still, I love the idea of it, and I think it’s something I could do. And maybe even my experience with Wife for Hire would count. But I’m probably having myself on completely here–’

  ‘Sam!’ Max interrupted, exasperated. ‘I’d love to hear what it actually is, preferably sometime before the year’s out!’

  Sam shrugged, sheepish. ‘Well, I’m not exactly sure what you call it, but it involves organising parties –’

  ‘What? Catering?’

  ‘No,’ Sam shook her head. ‘I’m talking about the organising. And not just parties, but conventions, launches, you know, big things.’

  ‘Event management,’ Max said plainly, picking up the newspaper.

  ‘Of course, that’s what it’s called,’ said Sam. She looked closely at Max. ‘Do you think I’m crazy?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Max nodded. ‘But that’s beside the point. I think you could do event management standing on your head.’

  Sam felt flushed. ‘Do you really?’ she said in a small voice.

  ‘D’oh!’ Max cried. ‘My God, Sherl, you’re the most organised person I know. Mm, not counting the other day, you know, the empty tank, the lapsed membership, the dead battery . . .’

  Sam grinned.

  Max had been searching through the pages of the newspaper and had apparently found what she was looking for. She opened the paper out and slid it across in front of Sam. ‘Here you go, take a look there for a start. Under “Event Co-ordinator”.’

  Sam began to read the ads. There were only a few. Max stood up and started clearing the table around her.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Cleaning up.’

  Sam frowned. ‘That’s not like you. What’s going on?’

  ‘I do clean, you know. Are you suggesting I live in squalor?’ she said airily.

  ‘I’m sorry. It’s just, you’re not normally so . . . fervent about it.’ Sam narrowed her eyes. ‘And you were up before I got here, vacuuming! Come on, spill. What’s going on?�
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  ‘Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s not very exciting. A friend from uni is coming round to help me with stats. We have an exam next week and I’m dreading it.’

  ‘I thought you loved statistics.’

  ‘Yeah, quoting them, not calculating them.’ She shuddered. ‘Maths is involved, Sherl!’

  ‘Well, I’ll get out of your way.’

  ‘No, you’re fine. There’s no rush. Have you found anything there?’

  ‘Mm, only a couple, and I don’t have the experience to apply for either of them.’

  ‘That’s why you have to make direct approaches.’ Max bustled around the room as she spoke, straightening the place up. ‘Find the names of companies in the phone book, put together a resume, and send it to them. Then follow up with a call.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know . . .’

  ‘It’s how people get jobs, Sam, especially in that kind of industry. I bet they don’t even have to advertise entry-level jobs. They’d have people lining up to work for them.’

  Sam looked squeamish.

  ‘Look at the way you approached Wife for Hire,’ Max continued. ‘That was pretty upfront. Come to think of it, all those clients of yours, there’s bound to be someone who has contacts, Sam. You have to start telling everyone you know –’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s ethical.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Using my clients to get myself another job? It doesn’t seem right.’

  ‘Oh Sam,’ said Max, frustrated. ‘You’ve got to learn to look after number one. Wife for Hire will get along without you.’

  She shrugged, thinking. ‘What about Fiona?’

  ‘What about Fiona?’ Max swung around.

  ‘Well, she works for that huge company . . .’ Sam hesitated, looking at Max. ‘What is it with Fiona? Why does everybody suddenly become all guarded when her name comes up?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Max dismissed, turning her back.

  Sam stood up and walked over to where Max was sorting through her CDs. She leaned against the wall and folded her arms. ‘What’s going on?’

  Max sighed, putting down a pile of CDs. ‘I would be the worst secret agent.’ She looked at Sam squarely. ‘Fiona asked us not to say anything to you because she didn’t want to upset you, and she didn’t want you to hate her.’

  ‘What on earth is it?’ Sam frowned.

  Max took a deep breath. ‘She’s having an affair.’

  Sam’s eyes widened. ‘Who with? Do we know him? Does Gavin know?’

  Max shook her head. ‘No, it’s all very clandestine. Somebody she works with. He’s married too, apparently.’

  ‘Wow,’ Sam said quietly. ‘But why does she think I’ll hate her?’

  ‘Think about it, Sherl,’ said Max. She started slotting CDs one at a time into their stand. ‘Jeff left you for a woman he met at work.’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ she murmured. God, had she become an object of pity now? Poor Sam. Everyone else was ‘moving on’ and here she was, too scared to even date a guy she’d known the best part of a year. ‘Have you seen Rosemary lately?’

  Max nodded.

  ‘I’ve been meaning to call her. She left a message with her new address and phone number. How’s she going?’

  ‘She hasn’t missed a beat, Sam. She found a place that first weekend, a furnished place, no less. And it’s not bad.’ She paused. ‘You should go and see her.’

  Sam nodded vaguely.

  ‘She thinks you’re avoiding her.’

  ‘I’m not avoiding her!’ Sam insisted. Max raised an eyebrow. ‘Okay, maybe I am avoiding her.’

  ‘Why? You should hook up with her some weekend when you don’t have the kids.’ Max slid the last CD into the rack. ‘She’s certainly getting around. She’s joined all these singles groups and she’s out like, every second night.’

  Sam winced. ‘I could think of nothing worse.’

  ‘Yeah, meeting new people, having fun, what an ordeal that would be.’ Max checked her watch. ‘Dan should be here by now.’

  ‘Dan?’ Sam grinned, arching an eyebrow. ‘You didn’t say the someone from uni was a man.’

  Max rolled her eyes. ‘A man who’s good at maths, Sherl! Do you really imagine he’d be my type?’

  Sam shook her head. ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it.’ She crossed to the kitchen, tossed her empty cup in the bin and picked up her handbag and the newspaper.

  Max followed her. ‘You don’t have to leave.’

  ‘No, it’s okay, I’ve got grocery shopping to do anyway.’

  ‘Jeez, I think I’d rather be doing statistics.’ Max walked her to the door.

  ‘I’m sure you would, with Dan,’ Sam winked. ‘Have fun.’

  Max rolled her eyes. ‘Fun with statistics. There’s an oxymoron.’

  ‘I’ll call you,’ Sam said as she started down the stairs. ‘Don’t forget baking day next week.’

  ‘Like I could.’

  Late Saturday morning was about the worst time to go grocery shopping, Sam realised on her fifth circuit of the car park. But she had nothing else to do. Weekends without the kids still dragged, despite the odd duty for a client. She had a few calls to make later, she liked to confirm restaurant reservations she had made previously, just so there were no last-minute upsets. And Patricia Bowen had left a list, of course.

  A young couple with a shopping trolley stopped just ahead of her and unlocked the boot of their car. Sam pulled over and flicked on her indicator. She might as well wait, there were no other spaces to be had. She watched the couple. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, talking and laughing the whole time they loaded their bags into the car. She couldn’t remember enjoying shopping with Jeff that much.

  Did they ever even go together? Not after the kids, maybe occasionally before that. She imagined they would have been rushing to get through it, having a hundred other things to do. Probably bickering the whole time.

  Sam sighed. Did he go shopping with Jodi now? Maybe on their child-free weekends?

  The pair were now apparently wrestling over the car keys, he had his arms around her from behind, tickling her, trying to make her give them up. The woman’s face was beaming with delight as she finally relinquished the keys. He kissed her lightly, before opening the door for her.

  They weren’t married, Sam decided. Or if they were, they were newlyweds. Or maybe they were having an affair. He had a family on the other side of Sydney, and he never went shopping with his wife.

  Well, you’re a bitter old piece of work, Samantha Holmes, she said to herself as the couple pulled out and drove away. She parked the car and strolled aimlessly into the supermarket, collected a trolley and pushed it through the barrier.

  Her mind returned to Fiona. Sam wondered who she was having the affair with, how long it had been going on. Did she steal away on the weekends? Surely it would be too difficult to get away from Gavin and the girls? He had them all week. Now that Sam thought about it, what had Jeff done? She knew he’d made the excuse of at least one conference to get away. The rest of the time he’d hung around the house, detached and distant. Sam hadn’t known that was because his heart and mind were somewhere else. She wondered why he didn’t make more excuses to get out at the time. Jodi wasn’t married. Or was she?

  Sam hardly knew a thing about the woman who lived with her husband. The woman who cared for her children every second weekend. But that was how she preferred it. These days she only saw Jeff for what he was to them. The father of her children, that’s the only role she needed to know about. The only one that mattered to her. And she had to admit that he seemed to be doing okay, better than when they were together. At least the separation had forced him to have a stronger relationship with his children.

  Sam wondered if the same would happen to Fiona. She seemed a somewhat distant mother. But that was probably unfair. Men were allowed to go to work and leave their kids without anyone raising an eyebrow. Yet there had been not a few comments over the y
ears about the strangeness of Fiona and Gavin’s arrangement, the strangeness of Gavin. In some ways, Sam wasn’t that surprised Fiona had been tempted away.

  What was she thinking? She was just the same as Gavin, staying home with the kids. Did that give Jeff the right to wander? To find someone more exciting? Why was she more sympathetic to Fiona in the same situation?

  Sam sighed – no one really knew what went on between a married couple, behind closed doors. She and Jeff hadn’t been close for a long time. Sam had replaced the missing intimacy with striving for a bigger and better house, with stuff to fill it, with a load of activities for the children and a frenetic social calendar for themselves. Anything that would fill the emptiness. And it would have been enough for her. That was the pathetic part. She had settled, if not for a loveless marriage, at least for a passionless one. But it wasn’t enough for Jeff. Maybe he had done them both a favour.

  Sam blinked, taking in her surroundings. She was in the canned food aisle. She looked in the trolley, it was half full. She did a quick check of the contents and realised it was all stuff she’d intended to buy. It was like when she found herself driving along somewhere, and while she could remember leaving home, there was a whole chunk of the journey about which she had no recollection. It was apparently possible to shop on automatic pilot as well. God, it was such a mindless activity.

  The sound of her mobile phone ringing startled her. She felt around inside her bag to answer it.

  ‘Samantha Holmes.’

  ‘Sam? It’s me, Jeff.’

  Speak of the devil.

  ‘Hi, is anything wrong? Are the kids okay?’

  ‘Yeah, everyone’s fine. It’s just Jessie. She’s okay, but she’s not feeling well.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Sam frowned.

  ‘Well, it’s not as though she’s actually sick, but she isn’t feeling the best, you know?’

  ‘Jeff, what are you talking about?’

  She heard him sigh. ‘She doesn’t have an illness as such. But she isn’t exactly a hundred per cent . . .’