by Anita Heiss
I realised I was thinking like a bloke. I'd always said how nice it would be to be able to have a passionate, sensual kiss, or kisses, that didn't necessarily always have to lead to sex. I should be grateful for the gentleman in front of me.
I smiled at him and said, 'I've had a lovely evening, Paul, the best in a long time. I hope you have good weather for your work tomorrow.' We headed home, to our separate beds.
***
At eight am the door buzzer went. The weather was grey and overcast so I was still in bed. I knew who it was. It was Peta and Liza, wanting to get the goss on the Perfect Date. They both knew I wouldn't answer the door if I had a bloke with me, so I let them sweat it out, letting them at least think I was still in the throes of passion. Peta put her finger on the buzzer, though, and left it there for what seemed like ten minutes. I scrambled out of bed before the neighbours could lodge a complaint.
'I know what you were doing, Missy ... Can read you like a trashy novel.'
'How did you know he wasn't here?'
Liza handed me a smoothie and pulled some mangoes out of her bag. 'Thanks, love,' I said, and took a long suck on the straw.
'He's been talking about his deck-building for the last two months,' Peta said, 'and I'm going over there later. Anyway, he's not that kinda guy, too much of a gentleman.' It was true, and I grinned at her.
'So how was dinner?' Liza asked, mango dripping from her chin. I'd always believed the only place to eat a mango was in the bath: they were just so messy. Maybe Perfect Paul and I could eat mangoes in the bath in the happy future ahead.
'It was perfect. He was perfect. The food, the view, the whole thing. Perfect!'
'Wow, that's a big call, Alice. Haven't heard you rave about a date like that, ever!' Peta was proud that she'd set up the perfect date.
'Yes, well, my friend, I think you may have done good this time. Your friend Paul is simply perfect. I think he'd be a great husband.'
'Don't get carried away, all right? You need to have another date before you send out the invites and order the flowers.' Peta didn't want the whole perfect set-up to come crashing down just because I was being too ... organised.
'She's right, Alice, just one step at a time, okay? Maybe that's something we should have put on your list of strategies for not meeting Mr Right. Don't rush things.' Liza went to the list on the fridge and pencilled it in.
I wasn't really listening to either of them, though. I was just content to go get dressed and head off Christmas shopping with my two friends, a spring in my step: I would be Mrs Paul-the-Engineer's-Wife by the time I was thirty.
twenty-one
He's the one, he's the one!
I woke on Christmas Eve to the sound of the garbage truck making its way up the hill. I'd missed them. I'd never missed them before – I couldn't believe it. I ran downstairs just in case I was wrong, but I was so tuned in to the sound of that truck I was sure I was right. The problem was, I'd been sleeping so soundly since meeting Perfect Paul that I was always dreaming, not wanting to wake.
There it was, though – not just my empty bin back in its designated spot, but a little present on top of it: a gorgeous cactus plant in a white porcelain pot with a red Christmas ribbon round it. Paul must have put it there after he'd dropped me off the night before. He was so thoughtful; he'd put my bin out too. Who had brought the bin in, though? And why hadn't the plant been stolen? Or ended up in the garbage truck? It didn't add up. Had Paul come back this morning to drop off the gift and brought the bin in then? Surely he wouldn't have had time to do that. No, he definitely wouldn't have had time. Was I over-analysing again? Probably. I was, as Dannie would say, one of those women who think too much. I had to stop. I smiled at the cactus and walked back upstairs. He's the one! He's the one! I told myself.
I was happy but confused. I'd had the most romantic two weeks of my life with Paul-the-Engineer. We'd spent nearly every night together since we'd met. We'd eaten at Café Sydney following a day of Christmas shopping in the city; had fish and chips at Bondi (and the backpackers didn't even bother me); gone swimming at La Perouse at dusk and to a movie at Moonlight Cinema in Centennial Park. I couldn't even remember what the film had been, we'd been so absorbed in each other. He'd planned something special for Christmas Eve as well. I'd never met a guy who was so well organised, and I loved it.
Between all of that, we'd also managed to meet each other's friends over Christmas drinks. Everyone commented on how lovely we looked together. And we did. I knew it, he knew it, but neither of us actually said it to the other.
There was just one thing wrong: I couldn't help wondering when I might get the chance to grip on something other than his bicep. I called Dillon for his opinion.
'Look Alice, it sounds like he's into you.' Phew! 'Thing is, all men want the same outcome; it's just that some take a different route to get there. Some take the direct line and expect it straight away; nice guys will go round the long way; but essentially it's the same goal.'
'That makes sense to me. He's a really nice guy. He probably hasn't even been thinking about it that much. He's very respectful of women.'
'Okay Al, now you're just being naive. He's thinking about it all right. He's just respectful, as you say, though I reckon strategic might be a better word. Either way, he doesn't sound like he's gay, and he calls you and you have dates, right?'
'Yes, lots of calls and dates. And he gave me a cactus. Mum and Dad have met him, and they thought he was gorgeous. Mum's been calling me every day asking about him. She reckons we'd have beautiful kids.' Her calls hadn't even bothered me really. At least she was no longer trying to set me up with Cliff, and she'd stopped accusing me of lesbianism.
'You know she means she'd have beautiful grandkids.' We both laughed.
'Yeah, I really wish she wouldn't confuse her desire for me to procreate with my desire at the immediate time to get laid.'
'Okay, too much information. I don't want to hear my sister speak like that, so I'm going. Good luck.' Dillon hung up, but I felt better for having spoken to him. I settled down to wait for Paul to pick me up for our Christmas Eve date.
***
At twelve-thirty my buzzer rang and I grabbed my handbag and headed out the door, feeling comfortable in my white linen dress with navy flowers. I'd dropped two kilograms in the last couple of weeks, with excitement and increasing infatuation overtaking my appetite.
Paul looked gorgeous as ever, casual but sexy as hell. We drove towards the city and I tried to guess where he was taking me for lunch. He parked the car at the Park Hyatt and walked me to a room on the third floor overlooking the harbour. On the balcony was a feast of delights: fruits, cheeses and a cold seafood platter to die for.
'I hope you don't think this is too forward of me, but Merry Christmas, princess.' He kissed my hand and passed me a glass of champagne. It was the perfect moment. I pulled him close to me and we got lost in a passionate kiss. Always hopeful, I'd shaved my legs that morning just in case. I'm sure it didn't matter to him at all, but I felt glad I had as he ran his tongue up my legs and then kissed my knees. My knees! Who'd have thought they were an erogenous zone? It certainly wasn't something I'd ever talked about with the girls – but I would be. Toe-sucking yes, but knee kisses never. This was new for me.
Move higher, move higher, move higher, get to the thighs, get to the thighs. I was impatient with desire. Just one quick orgasm would be enough to satisfy me – and then we could take the next four slowly. He was relishing every moment of making me wait, though. He'd get his – and he did, after I got mine.
***
We finally got to the food on the balcony later in the afternoon and we were ravenous. Luckily everything was still almost edible. We left the oysters – too risky – but devoured just about everything else on offer, then I devoured Paul again, the most delicious of the lot.
The evening played out much the same. Paul made up for years of selfish lovers I'd suff ered, and we both agreed that once you'd had Black you'
d never look back.
'Life doesn't get much better than this,' Paul said. Suddenly I felt my Christmas gift of a CD and a tie weren't half as romantic as his offerings. Paul loved them nonetheless, and I'm sure he understood that a teacher's wage went nowhere near an engineer's income.
***
I woke to the sun streaming through the balcony doors.
'Merry Christmas, princess.' Paul handed me a card. It was signed, 'To many more together, Paul.' Enclosed was another envelope and inside, two tickets to the Sydney Symphony Orchestra in January.
'Wow, I've always wanted to see them. How did you know?'
'Our friend Peta gave me a whole long list of things I could buy you. I thought I'd start at the bottom of it and work up. Thought it might have been a little too soon for the diamond brick.'
'I'll kill her, and thank her at the same time.' I went blood-red. I was already embarrassed at the expense Paul had gone to. I'd spent years paying for men who'd rather buy beer than food and rather place bets than book tickets or weekends away, though, so I figured it was karma – my turn to be spoilt.
Wanting to make the most of my Hyatt experience, I had one last lazy shower before we headed off to spend the rest of the day at my parents' house. Lunch was lovely, loads of food and laughs and presents. Dad played the perfect host, making sure the home-brew was flowing. We didn't have one family fight, and for the first time, we all had partners at the same time. Larissa and Arnie's girlfriend Cindy had both come along.
Arnie, Dillon and I carried out the family tradition and played hours of board games. Paul was a star at Trivial Pursuit, but wouldn't indulge in Twister. I was glad to opt out, not wanting to split already underpressure- from-lunch seams. Arnie and Paul laughed hysterically at each other's childish jokes and I saw a side of my brother I'd never really appreciated before. He was a very funny guy, and easygoing to boot. I watched him all afternoon and saw why the girls liked him so much. While Dillon was wise, Arnie was fun. And tall, dark and handsome. He got the best of both Mum and Dad.
'Hey Paul, pull my bonbon,' Arnie said for the third time, 'Trust me.' And they both killed themselves laughing again, as Arnie acted like an old man and farted every time Paul pulled on the other end of the cracker. I blamed it on the after-meal schnapps we'd all had. Another Austrian tradition Dad carried out on special occasions: either everyone at the table had a nip or no-one did. There was terrible pressure on those who didn't want to drink, but then again, I'd never met a non-drinking Austrian. Funny thing was, contrary to media perceptions, I'd met quite a few non-drinking Kooris.
'Time for a spell, you two funny guys.' Larissa was holding her belly, sore from enjoying the laughs all afternoon. 'Let's perv on Michael Bublé for a while,' and she loaded a DVD into the machine. Everyone collapsed to spend the rest of the day in front of the telly.
Mum called me to the kitchen. 'Well?'
'Well what?' I was confused.
'Well, what's going on with you two? You look perfect together.'
'It's only been two weeks, Mum and, yes, he is a bit perfect.'
'You know if you're a bitch to this one, you will grow old all by yourself. You'll have to become one of those lesbians, then. Is that what you want? I'm starting to think it might be.' I didn't even bite. It was clear where my irrational genes had come from.
I looked at Paul again, his eyes fixed on the movie, his profile just gorgeous. Dillon was sitting with Larissa and Arnie was with Cindy, whom he'd been with for several months – a record for Arnie. It looked like she was in for the long haul. Everyone seemed happy and content. There was something really right about the whole scene.
At seven we said goodbye to the family and went back to my place. Paul stayed for the first time, because he would be going away until New Year's Eve. This new sense of closeness made me happy. We took a stroll along Coogee Beach before sundown and bumped into Peta with her new man Michael, a colleague from the department. (She was big on the saying 'Don't dip your pen in the office ink,' but it didn't seem to apply in this case.) We walked together for a while and it was really nice, like a double date. Surely I wasn't becoming one of those sad 'I'm no-one without my bloke attached to me' kind of girls?
Paul and I had an early night, and the sex was even better than the day before. I was almost glad he was going away for a week – I was already exhausted.
***
I woke late, around ten. It'd been a long, busy night. Paul had left already, but not before going out and buying the paper and some pastries for me. I declared him a saint as I bit into a buttery croissant. A short note from him wished me a happy Boxing Day and said he'd call later. He hadn't wanted to wake me.
I spent the next four days at the sales and just hanging out at the beach, realising how much I really loved being around Paul. I missed his company – he was so easy to talk to and fuss over. I counted the days down until he'd be back, and started planning January, as we would both be on holidays.
I hadn't asked Paul to Bianca's wedding yet, but as luck would have it, Liza had met a bloke too, some guy named Luke she'd pub-pashed at the Palace on Christmas Eve. As she was taking him, we agreed that I should ask Paul as soon as he got back to Sydney – but I couldn't wait that long, so I called him.
'Would you like to come to my friend Bianca's wedding on January twenty-third?' I wanted to be organised, and to organise him if need be.
'Of course, princess, I'd love to. Just tell me where I have to be and when and I'll be there. Is it formal? I've got a tux.' He sounded as excited as the bride. Of course he'd have a tux – Mr Perfect would.
'I can't wait to see you, Paul.'
'Me too, princess, I'll see you tomorrow at yours, okay? Say four o'clock?'
I smiled as I put the receiver down and started to plan what I'd wear on the New Year's Eve Spectacular harbour cruise we'd be attending. The invite read 'Dress to the 9s,' so I thought long, black, backless, with a shawl. Paul hadn't seen that outfit and would love it. I didn't think I should have my knees showing, just in case.
***
At four sharp the buzzer went and I wondered for an instant if I should be offering Paul a key. Perhaps it was too early for that. I'd forgotten about it by the time I'd opened the door. He thrust a bunch of multi-coloured gerberas in my face.
'For you, my princess.' He smiled his Colgate smile and I went weak at the knees. The door had barely shut when we were on the floor making up for lost time.
***
We made our way to the dock at Rose Bay to meet Peta, Liza and Dannie, along with hundreds of other partygoers. There was a real New Year's buzz in the air, even if we were a little late starting the celebrations.
'Where the hell have you been, Missy? We were buzzing for twenty minutes.' Peta was a little miff ed.
'Left without us, did you?' Liza asked. She wouldn't have believed that Paul had left me handcuff ed to the bed while he went and showered, so I didn't even begin to tell her. I was just grateful that I hadn't peed myself with laughter while I waited for him to uncuff me. He'd threatened to shave me as well, while I lay there exposed, but I gave him a mouthful about itchy regrowth and told him I'd put him on rations if he came anywhere near me with a blade.
Within half an hour we were among a large flotilla of craft on the harbour, all seeking the ultimate position for the midnight fireworks. Both Paul and I had that postcoital glow. So did Dannie and George, I suspected, as the kids were with his parents for three days. We all settled ourselves in some chairs on the upper deck and sat on a couple of bottles of champagne as the harbour lights just passed us by. At that very moment I could've died an extremely happy women.
