It Started with a Kiss

by Lisa Heidke

  ‘I want to do whatever it takes to get them back together,’ Evie was saying. ‘I don’t want two of everything. I just want one bedroom and I want my mum and dad living in the same house.’

  She started to cry. It was time to interrupt because Evie certainly wasn’t going to get any sisterly love from Olivia. Sometimes I forgot that Evie was still so young.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I asked brightly, walking into the room.

  Evie spun around to face me. ‘I’ll tell you what’s wrong, you’re destroying my life and everyone else’s as well. You’re not even behaving like a mother, running around with Rosie, going to those stupid parties.’

  For a minute it seemed like I was listening to Liam. ‘That’s not true, sweetheart. I’m not trying to destroy your life. I love you very much.’

  ‘You have a weird way of showing it. You can do whatever you want but I can’t. I just have to go along with everything you say and I hate it. I hate you.’

  She ran out of the room with Olivia and I staring after her.

  Olivia shrugged. ‘Hormones. They play havoc with your emotions.’

  At dinner, the three of us sat at the kitchen table eating pasta. Rather, Liv and I were eating it. Evie was picking at the vegetables and pushing spaghetti around on her plate.

  ‘Evie, you have to eat.’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘Evie—’

  ‘Mum,’ said Olivia, cutting in. ‘When can Brodie stay the night?’

  ‘Liv, we’ve been over this. Probably never.’

  ‘That’s so unfair. We’re just friends.’

  I smiled. ‘Great, I’m glad you’re just friends because kissing is a lot more than saliva. You could be passing on anything from a cold to other infections and diseases.’

  ‘Mum,’ said Evie wisely, her earlier tantrum forgotten. ‘If Brodie stays over, there’ll be coitus.’

  ‘Shut up, baby,’ Liv screamed, kicking her under the table. ‘It’s none of your business.’

  ‘Stop kicking her, Olivia!’ I turned to Evie. ‘Where did you hear that word?’

  ‘Big Bang Theory.’

  Ignoring her sister, Olivia glared at me. ‘Why can’t I? It’s not like we’re going to do anything. You let Hannah sleep over all the time.’

  I stared disbelievingly at her, trying not to sound too sarcastic. ‘Are you in a relationship with Hannah?’

  ‘Yeah?’ said Evie smugly, sucking up a single spaghetti strand.

  ‘No, but Brodie and I aren’t, either.’

  ‘Are you buying this?’ Evie asked.

  ‘Evie, that’s enough. Olivia, I’d like to believe you, but Stephanie saw you and Brodie kissing on the beach the other day.’

  Olivia’s eyes widened. ‘When?’

  ‘Why? Have there been a few times?’

  With that, Liv pointedly pushed away her plate, scraped back her chair on the timber floor and stomped off to her bedroom, slamming her door and presumably now was texting/skyping/ phoning Brodie to tell him what an ogre her mother was.

  ‘Mum,’ Evie whispered. ‘He is her boyfriend. It says so on Facebook.’

  I nodded. ‘Thanks for the tip.’

  I knew Liv and Brodie were together. I’d also seen them on the beach kissing and hugging. It was cute. I don’t know why she insisted on trying to hide it. Maybe because she thought I’d allow her more freedom with him if they were ‘just friends’.

  ‘Mum,’ said Evie, ‘how many calories do you think are in a stack of three pancakes smeared with maple syrup?’ She paused. ‘I didn’t eat all three. I ate two. Maybe one and a quarter.’

  ‘I really don’t know, honey,’ I said. ‘Not many. Don’t worry about it. You’re gorgeous.’

  ‘No, I’m not and, besides, you have to say that. Some girls in my class only eat lettuce, lemon and grated carrot. Compared to them, I’m ginormous.’

  ‘Evie, could you eat a little bit more of your spaghetti, please?’

  She sighed and pushed spaghetti around her plate. ‘I’m still trying to digest the pancakes.’

  ‘Now you’re being silly—’

  ‘So I’m fat AND silly? Thanks, Mum.’ Then she, too, ran to her bedroom and slammed the door.

  Welcome home, girls.

  Half an hour later, I went to check on them, to invite them to watch a movie of their choice with me. No takers. Admitting defeat, I went to bed early with my book.

  The next morning, I almost had to drag the girls from their beds to get them moving. And then the yelling started. ‘You’re so unfair, Mum,’ ‘I hate you,’ and ‘I want to live with Dad. He’s the nice one.’

  I encouraged them to pack their school bags, including the lunches I’d prepared.

  ‘I’m not eating this if there’s butter on it,’ said Evie.

  ‘No butter.’

  She begrudgingly took the cheese-and-lettuce sandwich and shoved it in her bag.

  ‘Olivia, what are you looking for?’ I asked, after she’d been staring into the fridge for a good three minutes.

  ‘Dunno.’ She slammed shut the door. ‘Mum, when are you going to start dating again?’

  I almost spat out my coffee. ‘Never. I don’t know. Why?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  But I knew it was something. ‘What is it, Liv?’

  ‘It’s just that I think Dad is.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Well, Brad said Dad’s a chick magnet—’

  ‘Olivia!’

  ‘What? He did.’

  That definitely sounded like a stupid line Brad would utter. Immediately, I imagined scantily clad women, just out of their teens, prancing around in little more than skimpy bras and G-strings at Brad’s. Not a look I wanted my daughters to embrace, and one of the reasons I was never keen on them staying at Brad’s in the first place.

  ‘And then Dad got really angry,’ said Olivia, pulling me back into the conversation.

  ‘Yeah,’ agreed Evie. ‘You know the look he gets when you disagree with him or ask him to unstack the dishwasher?’

  I knew the look. Okay, so Liam was getting out and about. Hmm. So be it. But then I caught myself. This was probably just another one of Olivia’s tactics to keep Liam and me from talking to each other.

  ‘There was this woman at breakfast yesterday. Dad said she wasn’t his girlfriend,’ said Liv.

  ‘Her name’s Anna,’ Evie chimed in.

  After that, I couldn’t wait to send the girls off to school. I called Rosie on the way into work.

  ‘I think Liam’s got a girlfriend.’

  Rosie squealed. ‘You’re kidding?’

  ‘Evie and Liv seem to think so.’

  ‘They could be winding you up.’

  ‘Yeah, they could, but…’

  ‘KissMeCupid. KissMeCupid. KissMeCupid.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Well, your profile’s active, love. All you need to do is log on and click away.’

  I didn’t know what to think, but even though I was fed up with men, Liv’s words and Rosie’s mantra kept repeating in my mind: The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. I knew it was a mistake—for a start, I didn’t need to get over anybody, but a few hours later, in an unusually slow moment at the clinic, I logged onto KissMeCupid and went over some of the profiles that had been sent to me. Man, there were a lot. Who knew so many born-again Christians hung out at online dating sites? Not to mention the number of married men or men in relationships looking for friendship.

  I checked out the photos. Without fail all the men’s were action shots: skiing, surfing, riding Harleys, and the women’s were like the one Rosie had posted of me—subsequently removed—head and party shots, mostly featuring wine and champagne, big hair, big smiles and plenty of cleavage.

  Since my one and only time on the site, I’d been sent another thirty kisses. Thirty! Even without my photo. God, people were desperate. I started scrolling through them.

  Missing front teeth? No thanks.
r />   Handle-bar moustache? No.

  Looking for fun and games? I think not.

  Then I noticed an email from a guy who Rosie had emailed when she’d first set up my profile. He’d obviously seen my photo and the witch had been having a conversation with him, while pretending to be me. It appeared I was meeting him tonight… in three hours to be exact. I thought I was meeting Rosie to discuss her next party extravaganza, not some desperate from Dulwich Hill.

  I reached for my mobile and punched in her number.

  ‘When were you going to tell me?’

  ‘What’s up, my love?’ replied Rosie, all sweetness and light.

  ‘Apparently, I’m meeting Allan this evening.’

  Rosie giggled.

  ‘It’s not funny. I don’t want to.’

  ‘Stop being such a baby. What’s the big deal? You meet for a drink, talk. He looks good on paper, but if he’s a douche, you leave. Easy.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘But nothing. You need to get out of your pyjamas, wash your hair and get on with it.’

  ‘I could kill you.’

  ‘I know you could, sweets, but you’re probably not going to.’

  I hung up and clicked on to Allan’s profile. He worked for a merchant bank, athletic build, six foot tall and ‘loves bushwalking and all adventure sports’. Okay, so it was a couple of hours out of my life. I just had to get my head around going on a blind date. I needed to suck it up and go meet this Allan guy.

  After I arrived home and sorted the girls’ dinner (vegetarian lasagne and salad), I faffed around, agonising over what to wear… jeans, sweater and boots, casual? Or dress and heels, smarter casual? Given that Allan was six foot, I chose heels. Heels gave me confidence… and height. Then there was the hair dilemma—up or down. I really didn’t enjoy the drama of it all. I wasn’t up for this, but then I thought about Liam, in my mind picturing him with another woman. If he could do it, so could I. I mean I already had with Blake, but that seemed like a lifetime ago now, even though I’d only been home from Utopia a little over five weeks.

  I arrived at the bar a few minutes before six and quickly glanced around, before my eyes settled on Allan’s older, overweight brother. At least I hoped it was his older, overweight brother or better still, a complete stranger.

  When the stranger waved me over, my knees almost buckled.

  ‘Stunning Lids! Wow, your photo didn’t lie,’ he said, his eyes zipping up and down my body. I felt naked.

  Yours certainly did, I wanted to say. A quick once-over told me that Allan (if that was his real name) was at least eight years older than his photo and that his idea of athletic was a lot different to mine. When I think athletic, Santa doesn’t automatically spring to mind.

  I took a deep breath and sat down. Allan was guzzling VB from the can and staring at me. I suddenly felt a sick headache coming on.

  A waitress appeared and I ordered a Hunter Valley chardonnay. The drink couldn’t come quickly enough.

  ‘So, Allan, you like adventure sports?’

  He chuckled. ‘On the telly. I’m more of an armchair sports person myself.’

  Really? I never would have guessed. Death would be preferable to this conversation. Rosie was so defriended!

  ‘Why are you single?’ he asked.

  ‘Separated,’ I replied, but he wanted more, his eyes drilling me. ‘Recently separated,’ I clarified.

  ‘Am I your first?’

  There was a double entendre in there but I ignored it. ‘Online? Yes.’

  ‘Gotta watch out. Most guys are online for all they can get, if you know what I mean.’ Then he winked. Allan actually winked. ‘And you’re a good sort.’

  I didn’t know where to look. I just wanted to escape this hell I appeared to have been trapped in. ‘So,’ I said, looking around nervously. ‘How long have you been on KissMeCupid?’

  Allan took a confident swig from his can. ‘This time? Eight months.’

  ‘Wow, that’s a long time. How many women have you seen?’

  ‘Like right now?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Eight to ten.’

  I found that incredibly hard to believe. ‘You’re dating eight women right now?’

  ‘Yep. Not sleeping with all of them but.’

  I raised my almost empty glass. ‘Good to hear.’ Then drained it.

  Allan pointed to my glass. ‘Another?’

  I’d been with him just over forty minutes and could have had one more drink, but I’d spent more than enough time with my new friend. ‘No,’ I said, standing. ‘I’d better go.’

  Allan stood up as well. ‘Too bad.’

  Whoa! Six foot? I’m thinking more like five-eight… at a push.

  He leant in to kiss me on the lips and I turned just in time so that he skimmed my cheek. I extended my hand to shake his. ‘Nice meeting you, Allan.’

  I hightailed it out of there as quickly as I could and called Rosie on the way home. ‘That’s a good hour of my life I’ll never get back.’

  ‘Don’t tell me the date’s over already?’

  ‘Rosie, it was a disaster. That’s it for me and online dating. Que sera sera.’

  ‘No, don’t go quoting Doris Day. It was your first outing.’

  ‘First and last, thanks very much,’ I barked.

  ‘Nah, you’ll see differently.’

  No I won’t, I thought as I hung up. How do you explain chemistry and charisma? It’s not like I’m after Rob Lowe to sweep me off my feet, though that would be nice. But like when I met Liam… chemistry sort of punches you in the face.

  I kept saying to myself that it was impossible to fall in love with just anybody. And maybe that was true to a certain extent. But with the right lighting and an adequate supply of alcohol, anything was possible. Wasn’t it? Love was tenuous. Love was unpredictable. Love was—well, sometimes I didn’t think love was real. I wasn’t talking about the love for children, parents and rocky road. I was talking about romantic love. Could it last?

  Love was a fantasy, a creation. Sure, there were times when I thought it was real. People fell in love every day, but the feeling was fickle and often fleeting. I didn’t want love to feel fickle… even the word fickle sounded feeble. But love was.

  If Liam and I couldn’t make it…

  Maybe we were never meant to be together long term, ‘till death do us part’. The idea of us living in some dream-like trance for twenty years wasn’t normal. Or maybe I was just bitter because my love hadn’t been real. If it had been, Liam and I would still be together. He wouldn’t have said he was bored with me and I wouldn’t have slept with a married goat farmer.

  Tuesday at work was full on so I didn’t have a lot of time to think about myself or the unsavoury direction my life seemed to be taking. Having met with Maria and Penny and having received a call from Alice, another of Maria’s friends, I was beginning to think that revisiting my idea of setting up a private practice had legs. I could start slowly, maybe one day a week and build it from there. I loved my job and the extra money appealed to me. But first I’d need to sort out some reasonable office space at home.

  Wednesday’s job sorted.

  So that morning, after the girls caught the bus and I went for a long walk along the beach, my aim was to organise my working space: move all my papers, books and stuff from out of the kitchen corner and into the study which was crammed with Liam’s papers, books and stuff. For the moment, I didn’t plan on seeing clients at home. I didn’t have the space, but I could clear the desk, clean out the filing cabinets and stock the existing cupboard with relevant papers and supplements. As for Liam’s bits and pieces, I packed them away in several boxes.

  It took a full morning of shifting furniture, filing papers and throwing out non-essential correspondence, magazines and newsletters, but by one o’clock the study had begun to take shape. Happily, the kitchen also looked less cluttered and more inviting.

  I was eating lunch when the house phone rang. Probably a mark
eting call but I answered it anyway.

  I almost dropped the handset when I realised it was Blake.

  ‘Why are you ignoring me?’

  ‘After what happened at Maria’s,’ I said calmly, ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea we see each other again, do you?’

  ‘I need you. Let’s just talk for ten minutes and get this sorted.’

  ‘I really don’t think so,’ I said, and hung up. A moment later, there was a knock at the door.

  I opened it to see him standing in front of me.

  I couldn’t believe it. ‘What are you doing here? How did you find me?’

  ‘Looked you up in the White Pages.’

  ‘You can’t come in. What if someone sees you?’

  ‘Who’s going to see me?’

  I stood at the front door, arms folded, blocking the entrance. ‘This isn’t right, Blake.’ My mind was saying no, but my body language deceived me. I was taking shallow, fast breaths, my lips were half open and my body was involuntarily quivering. I felt nauseous.

  ‘I know and I’m sorry. Really sorry.’ His voice was loud, confident.

  I let him inside just in case Stephanie was lurking nearby. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I told you. I need to talk to you. Apologise.’

  ‘I accept your apology but that’s it. I can’t see you anymore.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Why not? Are you kidding me?’

  ‘Calm down. Walk on the beach?’

  Against my better judgement, I grabbed a jacket and my keys. Anything was preferable to staying here. I didn’t even notice that he’d taken my hand as we walked down the steep narrow path to the sand.

  ‘Why did you do it?’ I said sharply. ‘And in front of your daughter? I felt cheap. Stupid. Alone.’

  He was licking his lips, shifting his feet. ‘Babe, I’m sorry. I panicked. I wanted you.’

  ‘So that’s what you’ve driven fifty minutes to tell me? Again, I accept your apology, but it’s over. It’s a ridiculous situation anyway. It can’t go on.’

  ‘It can.’

  I took a step back. ‘No, it can’t. I won’t let it.’

  Ignoring my words, he kissed me. A thrill frizzled through me. I was excited and ashamed to admit I didn’t stop myself from responding. We kissed and kissed some more. I knew where this was heading. Again, we were in public in broad daylight. I imagined neighbours, in particular Stephanie, in her house above, spying on us. Not that I could see and not that I was looking too hard. My attention was diverted elsewhere.