by Di Morrissey
‘I could only get three days away at the moment, but there’s a fabulous boutique hotel up in the Hunter Valley. I can get a great deal through our hotel. How about it? All those wineries, nice restaurants, romantic suite . . .’
‘How cool!’ She hugged him, trying not to let him see that her eyes were suddenly filled with tears.
Jennifer’s announcement of her birthday plans was not well received by her mother.
‘You’re going away for your birthday? With somebody?’ Christina’s expression was a marked contrast to Vi and Don’s beaming faces.
‘Not somebody, Mum. Blair. We’ve been together for nearly a year now. He’s made the arrangements. It all sounds lovely. We’re going to the opera in the vineyards!’
‘Since when have you been interested in opera? Be careful, Jennifer, I don’t want to see you get hurt by this fellow. He obviously comes from a better background than you and like sticks with like, you know.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with Jennifer’s upbringing or family,’ said Vi smartly. ‘And how else are you going to grow and learn about things if you don’t experience them?’
‘Well, I hope she appreciates these opportunities to experience things,’ sighed Christina. ‘It wasn’t done in our day, Vi. Going away for a dirty weekend with a man – and bragging about it!’
‘Would you rather I sneaked off and said I was going with a girlfriend?’ asked Jennifer quietly. She was hurt, her mother had sullied the shine of the whole idea now. She looked at Don, hoping he’d step in and deflect her mother’s anger. She knew he wouldn’t tackle Christina by criticising her but he could diffuse the tension that was building among Vi, Christina and Jennifer.
‘What say we have a little pre-birthday party? Go somewhere nice for dinner. Maybe do something a bit different . . . have a picnic?’
‘That’s a lovely idea, Don,’ Vi jumped in.
‘We are being spoiled this year,’ said Christina with a thin smile. ‘Whatever you want to do, Jennifer.’
‘A picnic sounds lovely. Thursday night.’ Jennifer was relieved.
‘Oh. Thursday.’ Christina looked around. ‘Is there a calendar somewhere?’
What now? Vi and Jennifer exchanged an amused glance, both ready to explode in laughter.
Christina turned her back to them as she flicked pages of the calendar on the kitchen wall. ‘Oh dear.’ She turned a stricken face to them. ‘Well, I’ll just have to cancel.’
‘You have something on?’ asked Vi with a raised eyebrow.
‘Nothing important.’ Pause. ‘I’ve been taking tennis lessons for the past six months. We have our first little comp on Thursday night.’
They all stared at Christina who looked genuinely distressed. As she looked at the three stunned faces she became aware of the effect of her words.
‘What’s so shocking? I’m not senile, you know.’
Jennifer looked at her mother, really looked at her dispassionately, for the first time in years. She saw a slim, wiry thin, but fit and tanned woman in her early fifties. She’d coloured her hair. Jennifer had never noticed. Christina used to have a few grey hairs, now they’d gone and her nails were painted red. ‘Mum! That’s fantastic! Why didn’t you tell us?’
‘What! And have the lot of you down on me for starting something like this at my age? Telling me I’d injure myself?’ Nonetheless she was looking a little pleased at their reaction. ‘Actually, I’m not bad. Should have done this years ago.’
A nerve twitched in Jennifer. An instinct that told her Christina no doubt blamed her late father for the lost opportunity.
Don slapped his sister on the back. ‘That’s bloody beaut. Good for you. No wonder you’re looking so trim. Play with ladies do you? Or are there a few blokes at the club?’ he winked at Vi and Jennifer.
‘Where, when have you been doing this?’ asked Vi.
‘With some people from work. We go at lunch times. Thursday is our first social outing.’
‘Well, you can’t miss that,’ said Don.
‘What say we all go?’ said Vi.
‘Yes, Mum, we’ll come and be your cheer squad.’
‘Oh, I’d be so embarrassed. I mean, I’m still learning . . .’
‘Don’t go all coy, Tina. We’ll be there. What do you say, Jen? We’ll take your birthday cake and some champers to share.’
‘And celebrate your big win,’ smiled Jennifer. She knew her birthday would be downplayed and they’d all pay lots of attention to Christina. That was fine by her. The break away with Blair would more than make up for it. And besides, she was keen to see her mother in this new light. I bet Vi thinks she has a bloke. Well, I hope she does.
To everyone’s surprise it turned out to be a fun evening. Christina was a different person around other people. Vivacious, laughing, teasing her partner on the court, and she played well enough to help win the match. There were several men in the group but Christina didn’t pay attention to anyone in particular. ‘She plays to the gallery,’ thought Jennifer. When Don broke out the champagne, one of the women laughed.
‘Hey Tina, you came prepared to win. You had the game won before we started.’
‘Here’s to a rematch!’ Christina raised her glass.
‘And happy birthday, Jenny,’ added Vi and Don.
‘Oh, we didn’t know. Happy Birthday, Jennifer,’ chorused the group. Vi was furious. Why wouldn’t Christina have mentioned it was her daughter’s birthday? Darling Jen, so good natured. She hoped Blair would make it up to her.
And he did. Whether by good fortune, smooth management, or sheer luck, every moment of the three days was blissful for Jenny. The weather was perfect: cool fresh early mornings when they walked along the river watching wisps of mist drift across the gardens; warm balmy days as they explored the country around the vineyard towns, ate lunch in stylish and quaint restaurants, swam in the bathwater-warm pool at their elegant hotel; then lazy afternoons in their luxurious suite making love, sipping wine, before dressing to go out for dinner or staying in and being pampered on the terrace by candlelight. The Saturday night opera under the stars in one of the major vineyards had Jennifer clutching Blair’s hand as she wept at the sheer beauty of the evening.
‘Oh Blair, the night, the stars, those amazing voices, the music went right into me. I couldn’t believe it was me sitting with a glass of champagne with all those smart people . . .’
‘The midnight feast in the marquee, was that a triumph of catering or what?’ Blair had paid great attention to the details, the flowers, the candles, the table settings, how they’d got power into the huge marquee to keep the food warm, or ice cold, and provide just enough amplification for the chamber quartet. ‘Great setting for a wedding, or any convention function. Brilliant. I was talking to one of the organisers who told me how they managed in wet weather.’
Jenny smiled, knowing Blair was filing all this away should the day ever come when he could do something similar.
Blair rolled over in bed and reached for her hand. ‘Had a nice birthday?’
Jennifer hugged him. ‘The best ever. Thank you, thank you.’
‘Jenny . . .’ He was about to say something else but his words were stopped by Jennifer’s flood of kisses.
The next morning Blair met Jeff, the manager of the hotel, for morning coffee. Meanwhile Jennifer and Jeff’s wife Trudy headed to the river to share a kayak and paddle down to a spot where Blair and Jeff would meet them and they’d all go to lunch.
Jeff and Trudy were in their thirties and had been managing the hotel for two years. ‘It’s been gorgeous because we’ve had a house here. Last job we had to stay in the hotel. But we’ll be moving on at the end of the year. Down to the snow. I learned to kayak and did a wine appreciation course while we’ve been here. Suppose I’ll be taking skiing lessons next!’ laughed Trudy.
‘Sounds like a good life,’ said Jennifer. Though she thought living in quarters in a hotel or having to be on call and close by all the time would be a bit claustrophobic. She didn
’t ask what they’d do if they had children. Vi had made her aware that childless couples might be trying desperately to have a baby. But Jeff and Trudy seemed such an ambitious couple, children didn’t seem part of their immediate plans.
‘Are you and Blair serious?’ Trudy asked Jennifer suddenly.
‘Depends what you mean. We’ve been together a year but I’ve still got to finish my degree. And then think about finding work.’
Trudy didn’t answer as they concentrated on dipping their paddles into the smooth water. As they glided forward Trudy pointed. ‘Look, there’re the guys. I’m ready to eat.’
Jennifer thought back to that afternoon several months later and wondered if Blair had talked about his future with Jeff. Jeff had promised to let Blair know of any job opportunities he heard of along the grapevine.
Two weeks later Jennifer came home late on Saturday afternoon, after staying much longer with the rangers than she’d planned, and found Blair pacing around the patio.
‘Hey! I was getting worried. You said you’d be back after lunch,’ he grumbled.
‘Oh, did I? Blair, it was so fascinating, we were with this professor who’s been studying the disappearance of several species of frogs from Sydney. It’s all to do with the pollutants in the water, it’s shocking what people put down stormwater drains –’
‘We’re supposed to be going over to the Harrisons’ for drinks.’
‘Oops, is it that late? I’ll be ready in a flash.’ Jennifer dashed into the bathroom, peeling off her clothes.
Standing under the shower she felt cross that Blair wasn’t the least bit interested in what she’d been doing all afternoon. Admittedly, threatened amphibians mightn’t interest Blair, even if it was ringing alarm bells in environmental circles, but he could at least listen to her for ten minutes or so. Jennifer sighed as she towelled herself dry and wondered what to wear. The Harrisons were important to Blair, and she’d never met the general manager of the hotel and his wife before.
Blair eyed Jennifer as she emerged from the bedroom in a simple beige silk shift caught at the shoulders with tiny gold buckles. Her legs were bare and she wore sand-coloured Italian sandals and simple but tasteful gold jewellery. Her damp hair was brushed smooth, falling to her shoulders and caught to one side with a comb. She was wearing lip gloss and eyeliner which made her blue eyes stand out. It was a dramatic change from the young girl who’d dashed in in khaki shorts and an old T-shirt shortly before.
‘Do I look okay? My hair will dry by the time we get there.’ She still felt insecure about looking and behaving appropriately with Blair’s friends and colleagues. Not to mention the big boss. God, what would she talk about? Not frogs, that was for sure.
‘You scrub up very well,’ said Blair gruffly and he picked up the car keys. Jennifer followed, feeling chastened, unsure of Blair’s mood.
When they returned home Blair seemed elated. Maybe it was the wine, though the company had been stimulating and, although the other couples were older, Jennifer had enjoyed herself too.
Blair made love to her with passion, murmuring endearments. As Jennifer was about to fall asleep in his arms he asked, ‘What did you and old man Harrison talk about for so long?’
‘Umm, sailing. Fishing . . . lots of things.’
‘You don’t sail or fish. Anyway, he liked you. So did Mrs H. She thought you were lovely and natural.’
‘That’s good. How else could I be?’
Blair tightened his arms and started to say something but Jennifer had fallen asleep.
The following Thursday night Blair and Jennifer were cleaning up after a home-cooked dinner. Jennifer was scrubbing the pan the bolognaise sauce had been cooked in. She was in shorts, a tank top, her hair scrunched back, her face scrubbed clean. Blair thought she looked about fifteen. How sweet and unaffected she was.
‘So I think I’ll go back to the library tonight. I want to go through my lecture notes and get ready for Dr Mylan’s class tomorrow morning.’ Jennifer pulled a yellow rubber glove off with a snap.
Blair stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her, pinning her against the sink. ‘Don’t go, Jenny.’ He kissed her ear.
Jennifer reached around to pat his head. ‘I won’t get any work done if I stay home tonight.’
Blair’s grip tightened. ‘Marry me, Jenny.’
They both froze. Blair stepped back allowing Jennifer to turn and face him, a stunned expression on her face.
‘Will you, Jenny? Marry me?’
Jennifer shook her head as if to clear it and, looking at Blair’s hesitant nervous expression, she exploded in laughter and flung her arms around him. ‘Yes, yes. Oh Blair. Are you sure?’
‘Are you?’ He kissed her long and hard then drew back. ‘Phew, I’ve been trying to get that out since your birthday. I thought that would be such a romantic place to do it, and, I don’t know, I kept getting nervous waiting for exactly the right moment and something always happened. Tonight, it just popped out. Sorry. But I do have a ring.’ He fumbled in his pocket and produced a small velvet box.
Jennifer reached for it, then realised her left hand was still encased in the rubber glove. Laughing, they pulled off the glove and Blair opened the box and took out a sparkling sapphire surrounded by tiny glittering diamonds. He slipped it on her finger and kissed her.
‘Now you can’t go back to study. You can stop worrying about those lectures.’
Jennifer was swept up in his embrace before she could protest. Never mind, she thought, he’d have to realise that much as she loved him, and this new idea of getting married, she was not giving up her studies.
Jennifer broke the news on the phone to Vi and Don, asking their advice on the best way to tell her mother. Neither had a concrete suggestion.
‘Just don’t let her know we knew first. Maybe arrive and wave your left hand around. Is it a pretty ring?’
‘Oh Vi, it is pretty.’ If you like sapphires, thought Jennifer, then scolded herself for being ungrateful. ‘It’s a circle stone. But it wasn’t the world’s most romantic proposal. I’ll be telling my grandkids about it, that’s for sure,’ she laughed.
Privately Vi was horrified that Blair had proposed while Jennifer was scrubbing a pot at the kitchen sink. That was not the role she saw for her niece.
Jennifer dropped by Vi and Don’s on a casual surprise visit and made a pot of tea and chatted to her mother while Vi and Don disappeared into the garden to clean out the cage that held Don’s bleeding heart pigeons. She waved her hand with the ring in front of her, held it under her chin, pretended to wave away a fly and did everything but push it under Christina’s nose.
Jennifer gave up. ‘Mum, Blair and I want to take you out, or do something together . . . have a talk . . .’
‘Who? Oh, that boy. I don’t have anything to say to him, Jennifer. Why don’t we go out for a meal, seems ages since we had a little tete-a-tete.’
‘Mum, I want you to see Blair, talk to him.’ Deep breath. ‘We’re engaged.’
Light laugh. ‘Whatever are you talking about, engaged? That’s ridiculous. At your age.’
Silently Jennifer held up her hand, dangling the ring before her. Christina’s expression darkened, then looked tortured. ‘You can’t be serious. Jennifer, you’re so young, you don’t know what you’re doing. You can’t rush off with the first fellow who’s smitten –’
‘Mum, listen to me. Blair and I have been together for over a year. We’re very committed to each other, he’s proposed and I can see a good future with him.’
‘Rubbish. What would you know about staying together? You haven’t done anything in your life. Why throw it away on some man?’ She looked genuinely concerned.
Jennifer was hurt, but she wasn’t angry with her mother. Some instinct recognised the rationale behind her mother’s objections and she saw that her mother’s protective flare was ignited.
‘Mum, it’ll be all right. He’s a decent guy, he has a good job, big prospects. What don’t you like
?’
‘Jennifer, what do you know about him, really? His family. What are they like?’
‘I’ve just met them, they seem nice. But Mum, we’ve got lots of time. We’re not rushing into anything. We haven’t even set a date.’
Blair had made noises about getting married in six months’ time. Jennifer wanted to delay the big day, though she hadn’t told Blair that it was because of her studies. Nor had Blair told Jennifer that Jeff, the hotel manager in the Hunter, had advised him that having a wife made his chances of promotion much better. ‘They like couples, mate,’ he’d said. ‘A wife can be an asset if you’re posted away, it also takes away the temptation to eye-off guests or staff.’
Christina had another thought. ‘And how much is all this going to cost? I can’t afford to pay for some fancy wedding.’
‘I’m sure Vi and Don will help out,’ said Jennifer quickly. ‘I just want to keep it simple.’
As the weeks passed, Christina took over the wedding planning with an enthusiasm bordering on obsession. She called Jennifer constantly to check small details until Jennifer asked wearily if she could save up all her questions till they met on Saturday morning. This was when Jennifer and her mother met for coffee, ran through Christina’s inevitable list and then made a foray through fabric shops, gift shops, homeware places, and talked to photographers, florists and bridal stores.
‘Now, isn’t that lovely? That’s just the sort of dress we want. Let’s try it on,’ enthused Christina, eyeing a frothy confection of lace and tulle.
Jennifer shuddered. ‘Mum, that’s not my style. Too fussy.’
‘Oh Jennifer, you like such plain things. Surely your wedding dress could be a bit more . . . showy.’
‘I like simple, uncluttered lines, and it’s far too expensive anyway. I’d much rather Vi’s friend the dressmaker make me something. You have to find your outfit, don’t forget.’
The mother of the bride outfit diverted Christina’s attention long enough for Jennifer to pick the fabric and pattern she wanted and have Vi’s friend start sewing. Nevertheless Christina insisted on buying and presenting Jennifer with her ‘trousseau outfit’.
