“Terrific!” Meg replied. “I probably got too much sun, and I’ve got sand in places I don’t even want to think about, but it was just what I needed to blow the cobwebs away.”
Delighted by Meg’s ebullient mood, Allie grinned. “A glass of wine to celebrate then?”
“You read my mind.”
In the cottage, both women dropped their bags on the hall table and walked through into the kitchen.
“So, how was your day with Bella?” Meg asked.
“Interesting,” Allie replied, nodding thoughtfully.
Opening the fridge, she took out a bottle of wine and homemade cheese sticks. Meg collected two glasses from the shelf, followed her into the living room and dropped with a heartfelt sigh onto the sofa.
They toasted each other, and Meg savoured the wine. “Oh, that’s heavenly.” Taking a deep breath, she turned to face Allie. “So, tell me what’s happening with Bella.”
Allie gently twirled the stem of her wine glass. “They’ve got bigger problems than just Bella’s illness right now. You were right, you know; she is feeling totally smothered by Pat and it’s causing some serious issues for them. We talked about it for over an hour; she’s almost at her wits’ end.”
Meg sighed, bringing the bowl of cheese sticks between them on the sofa and picking one up. “Well, I’m not surprised,” she said, taking a bite. “You and I both know that Pat’s become almost obsessive with Bella since she got this second diagnosis. So, did you come up with a solution?”
“Well, once she let it all out, we decided that she needed professional help. She knows she has to be honest with Pat, but is worried that she’ll be incredibly hurt and the whole situation will just end up being worse than it already is. She needs professional advice on how to avoid that.” Allie placed her hand on Meg’s arm. “Oh, I nearly forgot. I’ve also promised to organise a roster of visitors for her, so she feels less isolated from what’s happening around her. I know she’s not well, but I think she would genuinely enjoy a small group of us visiting her at home in her off-chemo weeks. If nothing else, it’ll help lift her spirits. The other thing we need to do is organise for Pat to talk to someone as well, because this has to be causing huge emotional problems for her.”
Meg nodded, licking the crumbs from her fingers. “I think all those are great ideas. Interestingly, Pat and Daphne went off for a walk this afternoon and were gone quite a long time. When they got back, I’m sure Pat had been crying, so maybe that process has already begun.”
“Well, I thought I might have a chat with Daphne tomorrow and just give her a head’s up, see if she can help.”
The two sat companionably drinking their wine, and Meg soon had Allie laughing as she related titbits from the day’s outing.
“So, is there any further progress on the Daphne-Sparrow romance?” Allie asked, topping up their glasses.
“There is definitely something brewing there, but I get the impression they are trying to keep it under the radar. Not that I blame them; they would be totally in the spotlight. There are some women here that feed off that sort of gossip…” Meg said with a shudder, taking another cheese stick.
“Well, I for one hope they sort it out,” Allie said. “They are two lovely women and although I don’t know Sparrow that well, I can say for sure that it would be nice to see Daphne find someone.”
“But don’t you think they are…” Meg trailed off, waving her cheese stick in Allie’s direction.
“What?” Allie asked, puzzled.
“Oh, I don’t know. Total opposites, I guess. I mean, look at them. Daphne has to be close to six foot and Sparrow’s lucky if she’s five. I hate to be stating the obvious here, but could you find two women more physically different?”
“What, just because of their height?”
“Not just that. Daphne likes cars and beer and football and Sparrow… Well, Sparrow does embroidery, for Chrissake. I mean…come on.” Meg laughed. “It’s like the whole butch-femme stereotype playing out before our very eyes.”
Allie laughed too. “I agree, but look at you and me.”
Meg turned slowly to look at her. “What do you mean?” she asked uncertainly.
“Well, you couldn’t find two more different people than the two of us, but look how close we are. Sometimes, I swear you know what I’m thinking before I do.” Allie shrugged. “Anyway, I just think it’s great that, at their age, they’re brave enough to take a chance, and I hope they find the happiness they deserve.”
Meg leant into Allie and put her head on her friend’s shoulder. “You’re a good woman, Allie Richards,” she said softly.
Allie smiled as she leant her head against Meg’s. “What makes you say that?”
Meg sat up and faced her. Reaching her hand over, she gently took a lock of Allie’s hair and ran it through her fingers.
“Because you’re kind and always want the best for everyone. You are a natural carer in a way I could never be.” Cupping Allie’s face in her hand, she leant in and placed a kiss on her cheek. “There’s so much to love about you, and I’m so lucky to have had you in my life for so many years.”
Allie took Meg’s hand, unable to break eye contact. Meg was so close, she could feel her breath and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to lean in…
At the sound of Meg’s ringtone from the hallway, they abruptly pulled apart.
Shocked, Allie picked up her wine glass and took a large swallow. She wasn’t quite sure what the hell had just happened. She’d nearly kissed her best friend; more importantly, she’d wanted to kiss her best friend. Mortified and unable to look at Meg, Allie let out a breath as the phone finally went to message bank.
As they sat, the silence growing more awkward by the moment, so many thoughts went through Allie’s mind, but she found herself unable to voice any of them. Meg just kept staring into her now empty wine glass.
“Well,” said Meg finally, carefully placing her glass on the table and standing. “I suppose I should really get home. It’s been a long day.”
Allie rose as Meg walked to the hallway to collect her things. “It’s only just six p.m. Are you sure you don’t want to stay? I can whip us up a steak and salad,” she offered hesitantly.
Meg gave a brief smile. “No, I’m for a shower and my bed. Thanks for the wine and…talk.”
Allie followed Meg to the front door. Opening it, Meg turned to her.
“Sleep well, darling,” she said lightly, cupping Allie’s cheek in her hand. “We’ll catch up tomorrow.”
Allie watched until Meg entered her own cottage, then closed her front door, slowly returned to the living room and picked up the two wine glasses. In the kitchen, she emptied the contents of her glass into the sink before putting them both in the dishwasher. Emotions were bouncing inside her like a ping pong ball, and Allie felt completely incapable of dealing with any of it. Maybe she should just follow Meg’s lead and sleep. With luck, tomorrow the two of them could just laugh it off and pretend nothing had ever happened.
CHAPTER 11
The games room reverberated with sounds of laughter. The monthly OWL’s Haven poker game was in full swing; five women sat around a card table studying the cards Daphne had just dealt.
“Damn, Daphne!” Pat threw her hand on the table in disgust. “You have to be the worst dealer I’ve ever met.”
Sporting the green eyeshade that she insisted on wearing at each game, Daphne did her best Chicago gangster impression. “If ya don’t like the heat, honey, stay outta the kitchen.”
Meg looked at Pat’s dwindling pile of chips and laughed. “Stay out of the kitchen? I think she needs to stay out of the damned house!”
Challenging Pat to raise her stake, Daphne settled back in her chair.
Allie shuffled her cards around, trying to get a feel for the strength of the other players’ hands. No matter how many
times Meg reminded her that the poker game was just for fun, Allie’s competitive spirit always put an extra edge to her tactics. Of all the regular players, Allie found Daphne the hardest to read. Over the months, she had quietly worked out all their various tell signs. Meg rubbed her ear, or played with her hair; Sparrow drummed her fingers; and Pat, the great goof, actually smiled when she was dealt a good hand. Daphne, however, had the consummate poker face and gave nothing away, a lesson Allie had learnt at great cost on the many occasions she had unsuccessfully challenged her.
As more players folded, it was deadlocked amongst Allie, Daphne and Meg. Allie’s hand wasn’t great: two pairs, kings and eights. Meg raised an eyebrow, running her hand through her hair. Eyeing the large pile of chips in the centre of the table, Allie was torn.
“I hate to rush you, but we aren’t getting any younger here and I would like to finish this hand before my next birthday,” Daphne said, glaring at Allie over the top of her glasses.
Allie narrowed her eyes, then took up the challenge. “All right, I’ll see you,” she announced decisively, moving her chips to the centre of the table
Meg nodded her agreement, and Daphne placed her hand face up on the table.
“Two pairs, aces and kings,” she announced.
Allie groaned and tossed her hand on the table. “Damn, too good for me, kings and eights.”
Meg smirked at Daphne. “Hmmm, pretty good hand,” she acknowledged, still holding her cards close.
Daphne raised an eyebrow at Meg’s teasing tone. “And what might you have cradled to that oh so attractive bosom of yours, pretty lady?”
The women around the table laughed as Meg shook her head. “I do so hate to disappoint a card shark such as yourself, but I think you may have just been beaten.” With that, Meg laid down her hand and declared triumphantly, “My three twos beat your two pair.”
Allie stared in amazement. “Three twos?” she asked. “You bet all those chips on three lousy twos?”
Meg let out a rare whoop of delight. “Well, I won, didn’t I?” she gloated, sliding the chips from the centre of the table into her collection.
“By the way,” Daphne said, as the next hand was being dealt, “is anyone going to Sydney for the Mardi Gras parade next March?”
“I was thinking about it,” Sparrow replied, looking around at the group. “Anyone want to join me?”
Pat frowned at her cards. She wasn’t much of a poker player, but Daphne had insisted she come to give herself a few hours away from caring for Bella.
“I haven’t been for a few years, but Bella and I had a ball the last time we went.”
“We should all go,” Allie declared. “Just imagine all of us oldies marching. It would be fantastic. We could set up a senior lesbians contingent and teach those young ones a thing or two.”
“It’s a hell of a long walk. Maybe we could catch a lift with the Dykes on Bikes,” Daphne suggested, winking at Sparrow.
Pat slapped the table. “I’ve got an even better idea. Why don’t we each get one of those Vespa scooters that are all the rage? We could sail up Oxford Street on our little step-throughs, breasts bared to the wind. We’d be the ‘Hooters on Scooters’. They’d all have to be lavender, of course!”
The women erupted in laughter.
“Now there’s a truly terrifying picture,” Meg chuckled. “The thought of you with no shirt on might send the crowd running.”
Daphne grinned at Pat. “Don’t worry. You can always borrow my favourite biker T-shirt. It’s perfect. The back says, ‘If you can read this, the girlfriend fell off’!’”
Poker game forgotten, the women enthusiastically joined in the hypothetical escapade.
Placing her cards face down, Pat said, “Well, if we are going to be Hooters on Scooters, then we have to embrace the whole theme of the night. We all have to wear a pair of leather chaps.”
“With or without underwear?” Meg queried seriously, wearing her best poker face.
An immediate stunned silence fell over the room. Then the women dissolved into near hysteria, as each one grappled with the image that Meg’s question brought up.
“Oh, please,” Allie declared, pressing her hands to her eyes in mock horror. “Now it’s just getting ugly.”
“Oh my God,” howled Daphne, gasping through her laughter. “Just imagine, how are we going to cope, trying to dodge all those flying insects that swarm around the headlights at that time of night?”
That suggestion prompted another round of hilarity which lasted several more minutes.
Finally regaining control, Sparrow managed to add, “Well, I for one will not be volunteering to work in the First Aid tent when you lot come in for your insect extractions.”
“Well, the more demure amongst us could at least wear a G-string,” Meg joked, winking at Sparrow.
Allie screwed up her face at the thought. “Ugghhh, who wants to have a little strip of material between their cheeks all night? I’d be squirming the whole time trying to get comfortable.”
Pat rose from the table to demonstrate as she said, “I can just see us—walking around tugging on our G-strings.”
“Besides,” added Daphne, trying valiantly to keep a straight face. “I don’t think they make them in my size.”
“Well, Daph, one thing’s for sure,” Allie managed through her laughter, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You sure as hell can’t wear your cottontails under your chaps. That would be like setting a spinnaker on your Vespa and sailing up Oxford Street. We wouldn’t be able to keep up with you.”
Pat slung her arm around Daphne’s shoulders. “Oh, you should do it just for the hell of it.”
Sparrow gasped. “You all have to stop. My ribs are hurting from laughing so much. You’re going to give me a coronary”.
Sanity eventually returned to the room and the women made a half-hearted attempt to renew their card game amidst sporadic giggling.
Pat chortled quietly over her newly dealt hand of cards. “Well, we may have a few years under our collective belts, but we sure as hell still can have a good laugh at ourselves. I can’t remember the last time I had such fun, and I don’t just mean the cards.” She looked at her friends “Thanks for tonight. It was just what I needed. You are one crazy bunch of women.”
“These days sixties and seventies are the new forties and fifties. Just because society thinks we’re old, it doesn’t mean we have to act like it,” Daphne said.
Meg fixed her with a steely glare. “We are not old, Daphne,” she said imperiously. “We are ‘Women of a Certain Age’,’ with a great deal of life still to live. ‘Old’ sounds like a description of my grandmother.”
“Hideously proper and dignified, which doesn’t sound like us at all,” Allie insisted.
“I have to agree,” Sparrow added. “When my grandmother was my age, although she kept fairly active, it was as if she had lived her life and was just waiting to die. The thought of travelling, or doing anything remotely adventurous, would have totally shocked her.”
“So now that you have that information, Pat, you will have to go and tell Bella about our plans for the Mardi Gras,” Allie said. “She’ll probably think we’ve all finally gone mad.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure.” Pat grinned. “Knowing you all as well as she does, the only thing that would surprise her about this plan is that it took us so long to think of it!”
CHAPTER 12
Daphne anxiously checked the clock for the third time in fifteen minutes. She was due for dinner at Sparrow’s home at seven p.m., and she couldn’t believe time was moving so slowly.
She didn’t know why she was so nervous; she and Sparrow had spent much of their time together over the past weeks. However, this was the first time either had invited the other for dinner, and Daphne suspected tonight was going to see their relationship move to the next level. Well, she thoug
ht with a smile, I damned well hope it will.
Daphne couldn’t believe that at sixty-eight she was taking another shot at romance, especially after her utter determination to stay single. She knew this was what she wanted; she just had to get over her initial apprehension. Checking her reflection in the mirror, she grinned.
“Never say never, old girl,” she chided herself.
Collecting her gifts from the kitchen, Daphne made her way to the front door. She had carefully chosen a bottle of red wine that came highly recommended by the local wine merchant and as a last minute thought, had also purchased a small bunch of flowers. It had been so many years since Daphne had dated anyone, but she assumed that wine and flowers still made a good impression. She locked the front door, and waved when she saw her neighbours walking arm in arm, out for their evening stroll. Daphne decided it was a perfect omen for the night ahead.
The western complex of the village, where Sparrow and Daphne lived, consisted of a dozen small cottages set amidst bush land. As Daphne made her way to Sparrow’s, she admired the native gardens that surrounded the homes. The wattle trees were already in flower and within a few weeks, Daphne knew, the prolific banksia bushes would burst into a riot of red and yellow, brightening up the usual grey-green of the bush.
At Sparrow’s front door, she took a deep breath before knocking firmly. Sparrow quickly opened the door, her face radiating joy and warmth. Suddenly, Daphne’s nerves vanished.
“Hello,” Sparrow said shyly, leaning up to receive Daphne’s soft kiss on her cheek.
“Hi,” Daphne breathed back, presenting the wine and flowers. “These are for you. I hope you like them.”
Sparrow took the flowers and buried her face in them, inhaling deeply. “Oh, sweet peas.” She smiled with delight. “They are my absolute favourites. Come into the kitchen with me while I find a vase for them.”
Closing the door behind her, Daphne followed Sparrow into the kitchen. She had visited on a number of occasions over the past few weeks, and she enjoyed the warm and welcoming atmosphere of Sparrow’s small, open-plan cottage. The furnishings, like Sparrow, were feminine without being fussy, creating a comfortable and homey feel.
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