Three’s a Crowd

by Dianne Blacklock

Lexie was making no attempt to hide her horror this time.

  ‘Don’t look like that,’ said Catherine. ‘When you get older and you have a few failed relationships behind you, you’ll think differently.’

  ‘I’m not going to have a few failed relationships behind me,’ Lexie insisted. ‘I’ll still be with Scott.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Catherine nodded faintly, thinking about it, ‘you probably will.’

  Lexie felt proud, but looking at the expression on Catherine’s face, she was not so sure she meant it as a compliment.

  ‘How did you and Scott meet?’ Rachel asked. ‘I’m not sure I’ve ever heard that story.’

  Catherine gave Rachel a dark look as Lexie’s face lit up and she leaned forwards.

  ‘Oh, it was just wonderful,’ she swooned. ‘It really was love at first sight, I wouldn’t have believed it could happen, but it did.’

  ‘Wow, this’ll be good, go on,’ Rachel urged.

  ‘Well, I was at Coogee beach with a couple of girlfriends after our final exams in third year, and we decided to get some lunch, and we walked up to this new café that had just opened.’ She grinned. ‘I don’t have to tell you which one. And there he was,’ she sighed the entire phrase.

  ‘That’s it?’ said Catherine.

  ‘Well, no, of course not,’ she said. ‘I mean, I was totally gone, hook, line and sinker, there and then, the whole shebang.’

  ‘Okay, we get it. What did Scott do?’

  ‘Oh nothing, you know Scott.’

  ‘When does the love at first sight part kick in?’ asked Catherine.

  ‘With me!’ she insisted. ‘As soon as I saw him I knew he was the one, and that was that.’

  ‘Okay, but what about Scott?’

  ‘Well, he took a little longer. I went back to that café every day for a week, and finally he said, “Weren’t you here yesterday?”’

  ‘And the day before, and the day before that, and –’

  ‘Go on, Lexie,’ Rachel interrupted Catherine.

  ‘So I said “Yeah.”’

  ‘And then what?’

  ‘Well, the following week –’

  ‘You kept going every day for another week?’ said Catherine.

  She nodded. ‘So he spoke to me again. This time he said, “Do you live near here?” And I said, “Why do you ask?”, and he said, “’Cause you come in here a lot.” And so I said, “That sounds like a pick-up line.”’

  ‘What did he say to that?’

  ‘Nothing, he just smiled, in that coy way of his.’

  Catherine groaned. ‘This is the longest love at first sight story I’ve ever heard.’

  ‘Nearly there,’ Lexie assured her. ‘A few days later some of my friends were having a party, and well, by then, we were having little exchanges when I’d go in, you know, “Beautiful day”, “What have you been up to?” or “Where are you off to now?” and so I said there’s this party, and would he like to come, and, well, the rest is history.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ Catherine declared, before draining her glass. ‘I was beginning to think you two were never going to get together.’

  Rachel smiled. ‘It’s a lovely story, Lexie.’

  ‘Not really one of the best love at first sight stories I’ve ever heard,’ Catherine muttered.

  ‘That’s true,’ Lexie agreed. ‘That title belongs to Tom and Annie.’

  Rachel thought about it. ‘You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard how they met.’

  ‘Haven’t you?’ said Lexie. ‘Annie used to talk about it all the time. She used to tell her girls like it was a fairy tale, you know – “Once upon a time . . . ” It was so sweet.’

  ‘I don’t remember it being all that remarkable,’ Catherine sniffed. ‘Didn’t they just run into each other on campus?’

  ‘Exactly!’ said Lexie. ‘In fact, literally! He literally ran into her.’ She gave a little laugh, clearly pleased with herself. ‘Well almost. Annie was walking Sophie to the childcare centre at the uni and she came around a corner and Tom was flying along on his bike, and so he had to swerve to avoid crashing right into the stroller. Can you imagine?’ Lexie gasped, shaking her head. ‘Anyway, he lost control and flew right over the top of the handlebars and landed in a hedge.’

  Rachel had a chuckle at that mental image. ‘No wonder he never told me that story.’

  ‘Well,’ Lexie continued, ‘Annie felt so bad, even though it wasn’t her fault, and she helped him up out of the hedge, apologising the whole time, checking if he was all right, that he hadn’t broken anything. But then Sophie started to cry at all the commotion, and Tom just brushed himself off and went over to the stroller, and he crouched down in front of her and before long he’d not only stopped her crying, he made her laugh. Annie said she fell in love with him right there. And could you blame her? Sophie’s own father had never had anything to do with her.’

  ‘That’s another story I never got to hear,’ said Rachel. ‘I tried to ask Tom about it once but he got a bit touchy. What did happen to Sophie’s biological father?’

  ‘He dumped Annie when she told him she was pregnant,’ Catherine said bluntly.

  ‘To be fair,’ Lexie countered, ‘they were very young, and she had only gone out with him a couple of times. They barely knew each other. Annie thought she was obliged to tell him, but when she saw how petrified he was by the very idea, she wasn’t going to push it. So she went home to tell her parents, and they disowned her.’ Lexie shook her head. ‘Poor thing, she had no one she could really count on until Tom came along.’

  ‘On his bike, nearly running them over,’ Rachel prompted her.

  ‘Oh, right,’ Lexie resumed, ‘so he walked them to the childcare centre, and he waited for Annie and walked her to her lecture, even though his own lecture had started like, half an hour before.’

  ‘Yeah, well Tom wasn’t exactly known for his punctuality,’ said Catherine.

  ‘And then he was waiting for her at the childcare centre that afternoon,’ Lexie went on. ‘And he had this funny little hand-sewn giraffe for Sophie, which he’d picked up at a Community Aid Abroad stall set up on the library lawn that day. She still has it, you know.’ Lexie continued as though she was talking to herself, staring into space. ‘And he walked them home, pushing his bike the whole way, and Annie asked him if he’d like to come in. And he stayed for dinner, and well, they were inseparable from that day on.’ Her eyes started to well. ‘I don’t know how he’s going to get by without her.’

  ‘Is he back yet?’ Catherine and Rachel asked in unison. They glanced at each other.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Lexie stirred. ‘Sorry, I forgot to tell you, that’s partly why I was late tonight. When I left the house he was out front unpacking the car. They just got back this afternoon.’

  ‘How is he?’ asked Catherine. ‘How are the girls?’

  ‘I didn’t see the girls, they were inside and I couldn’t hang around for long,’ said Lexie. ‘But he seemed okay. Tired from the drive, he said.’

  ‘I should give him a call,’ said Catherine and Rachel in unison again. They looked at each other, a little warily this time.

  Lexie was nodding. ‘We’re really going to have to look out for him. And the girls. I think Annie would have wanted that, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course we’ll look out for Tom,’ Catherine almost snapped. ‘Don’t forget Rachel and I were friends with him well before Annie came along.’

  Rachel didn’t know why she was being so touchy about it, and she certainly didn’t know why it had turned into a competition.

  Catherine was distracted then by something on the computer screen. ‘Well, would you look at this,’ she said. ‘Cupid has already sent you three arrows.’

  ‘The lingo is unbelievable,’ said Rachel. ‘What, do they think we’re twelve?’

  ‘Come on, let’s take a look,’ Catherine insisted, shifting her laptop so they could all look at the same screen. ‘Let’s try Handsome Guy first, he sounds promising.’
<
br />   She clicked on the link and his profile came up.

  ‘Okay,’ said Rachel, when the other two hadn’t said anything, ‘the only thing attractive about him is his sense of irony.’

  ‘Maybe that’s it,’ said Lexie helpfully. ‘Maybe he’s just being ironic?’

  ‘Still, he has a head like a shin of beef and nothing in his profile that even vaguely interests me.’

  ‘Okay, let’s move on to contestant number two, shall we?’ said Catherine, clicking on the link. ‘Well, there, he doesn’t look too bad.’

  Rachel screwed up her nose as she skimmed his profile. ‘Too sporty.’

  ‘Oh come on, Rachel, a lot of guys are going to have some interest in sports. You can’t cull them on that basis.’

  ‘Why can’t I? If they’re allowed to cull on dress size, I can do what I like.’ She looked a little closer. ‘Nuh, he likes bike-riding. Men in fluoro lycra,’ she shuddered.

  ‘Third time lucky,’ Catherine said patiently, clicking the mouse.

  They all sat quietly reading the profile. Rachel couldn’t find anything wrong with him, she was hoping one of the others would.

  ‘Well he seems nice,’ Lexie said finally.

  ‘Yes, he does, he’s not even all that into sports,’ Catherine pointed out. ‘And he sounds quite sensitive, the way he talks about he and his ex not being suited, that it’s no one’s fault, and now he just wants to move on. Sounds a bit like you and Sean,’ she added, nudging Rachel. ‘And look, no kids, that’s a plus.’

  ‘Why?’ Lexie frowned.

  ‘I don’t mean in general,’ said Catherine. ‘But if he had kids it just means he has to have a lot more to do with the ex wife, which is always complicated, let me tell you. I see it every day.’

  ‘So what happens now?’ said Rachel, as though a doctor had just given her unpleasant test results.

  ‘You could be a little excited at least,’ Catherine suggested.

  ‘This is the best I can do,’ Rachel assured her.

  ‘All right, well, you have to send an arrow back –’

  ‘For crying out loud.’

  ‘– which will let him know you’re interested, and put the ball in his court.’ Catherine studied the screen. ‘Ooh, and he’s online now. You might get an immediate response.’

  ‘He’s online now? How can you tell?’

  ‘There’s a kind of indicator light in the corner, see?’

  Rachel pulled a face. ‘That’s creepy.’

  ‘Why is it creepy?’ said Catherine. ‘You’re online now. He has to be online if he just sent you an arrow, think about it. Look, you can even chat online.’

  ‘No way I’m doing that.’

  ‘Why? It might be fun with us all here!’ Lexie chimed in.

  ‘No, I can’t think on my feet like that. And I don’t even know the guy.’

  ‘It could be how you can get to know him.’

  ‘Perhaps, if I was a teenager.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Catherine. ‘Do you want me to go ahead and just send the arrow?’

  ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I’m going to get another drink.’

  In the time that took, Philosophy Guy had sent back an actual written message. Catherine read it out to her.

  His name was Phil, hence the moniker; he liked her photo, he said she had a nice smile; he worked in IT, which he found quite stimulating. Rachel was not exactly bowled over, but at least he used correct spelling and punctuation, Catherine pointed out.

  She proceeded to act as scribe, as all three of them composed a reply, which ended up sounding more like an interrogation.

  He gave some sketchy answers, claiming it was difficult to get to know someone over email. There was a little more to-ing and fro-ing, but Rachel lost interest, so she left Catherine to deal with him. By the time the second bottle was finished, Rachel had a date for the following Friday night.

  ‘That happened really fast,’ she said, her head spinning, though that could be attributed to the champagne.

  ‘Damn straight,’ Catherine said proudly. ‘If I keep going at this rate, I’ll have a job for you by next week, Lexie.’

  The day after

  ‘What would you think if I went back to work, Mum?’

  ‘Lexie!’ Her mother looked up from the stack of sheets she was searching through. They had embarked on their annual post-Christmas sales expedition. Her mother always waited a polite interval, at least until the first week in January; rushing to the shops before that was simply vulgar, she maintained. Lexie used to enjoy these trips, the buzz finding designer labels at a fraction of their pre-Christmas price. But after a while she started to wonder why a dress selling for eighty dollars could ever have been worth five hundred.

  These days she just wondered where everyone got the money. Weren’t they absolutely bled dry after Christmas, like her and Scott? And the level of frenzy seemed, well, a little vulgar as well. Not that her mother ever behaved in a frenzied manner. She always had a plan and a very specific list, which she rarely strayed from. It wasn’t a bargain, she had always told Lexie, if you didn’t need it in the first place. So it was the time of the year she replaced or topped up her linen, flatware and glassware, and began to stock up on gifts for the coming year.

  ‘Why, darling,’ she was saying, ‘do you want to know if I can mind the children? Because I’d be only too thrilled. We’d have to work it around some of my commitments, but I’m sure it can be done, and honestly, anything to help. Your father and I have been so worried.’

  Lexie’s face dropped.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘You’re pleased?’ she said. ‘I was hoping you’d be horrified, or at least disapproving that I’d leave the kids so young.’ If she wasn’t even going to get support from her mother’s generation, where would she get it?

  Sally looked at her daughter’s crestfallen face. ‘Let’s take these to the register. I think it’s time for coffee.’

  Twenty minutes later they were ensconced at a table at a nearby café, and Mia was occupied with her babycino. Lexie had not dragged Riley along today. Mia was still young enough to go in the stroller, but it would be unfair to expect poor Riley to trudge around behind them all day, so she had arranged a play date with a friend from his preschool, who was starting big school with him at the end of the month.

  ‘So what’s this all about?’ Sally asked her daughter. ‘Why did you ambush me with that question?’

  ‘I didn’t ambush you, Mum.’

  ‘Lexie, there was obviously an agenda attached. And as I was not informed of that agenda, I gave you an honest answer instead of telling you what you wanted to hear.’

  Lexie sighed. ‘I didn’t mean to ambush you, Mum. I thought you wouldn’t approve of me going back to work, and I wanted someone to be on my side.’

  Sally frowned. ‘Okay, I’m still not following you. What exactly are you talking about?’

  ‘It’s just been . . . suggested to me, by some quarters, that with Riley going to school this year, I should think about going back to work.’

  ‘This is coming from Scott?’

  ‘No, of course not!’ she insisted.

  ‘Well, it’s not exactly a crazy idea, darling.’

  ‘But you stayed home, Mum, for all three of us. And not just till we went to school.’

  Her mother, in fact, had never had a ‘job’, according to Catherine’s criteria, because she’d never been paid for the tireless work she did for various charities and organisations.

  ‘It was different for me,’ said Sally. ‘Your father had a good income, darling, a very good income. You know that. And the hours he worked made it almost impossible for me to consider working.’

  ‘It’s the same with Scott.’

  She thought her mother was going to choke on her latte.

  ‘I just mean his hours are difficult to work around,’ Lexie explained. She knew the income was no comparison. ‘The early starts, weekends . . .’

  ‘Weekends aren’t reall
y the issue though, are they, sweetheart?’ her mother pointed out. ‘It just means he has a day off during the week when he could be with the children if you were working.’

  ‘But then we’d get no family time at all.’

  ‘That is a good point,’ Sally agreed. ‘And something to be taken into account, certainly. Do you remember how difficult it was with your father?’ She shook her head. ‘No matter how carefully we scheduled birthday parties and family get-togethers, some woman would always go into labour at the most inconvenient time.’

  ‘I finshed Gammar,’ Mia announced.

  ‘I’ll get her –’

  ‘No, no,’ Sally waved her off. Lexie sat back, sipping her coffee, watching as her mother gently and lovingly, and always so patiently, cleaned up her granddaughter, then lifted her over onto her lap and let her rest her head against her pale cashmere cardigan and play with her necklace. It was only costume jewellery; that was one lesson Sally had learned early on, when Riley had closed his little fist around a string of antique pearls she was wearing, and tugged. The entire family had spent the next hour on their hands and knees, searching for the pearls, which had scattered into every corner of the room. An errant pearl showed up every so often for probably the next six months.

  Of course at the time her mother had dismissed it. She was always so patient, so forgiving and understanding of the little mishaps – and not so little ones – that children were prone to cause. Lexie’s childhood had been idyllic for the most part. It was true, they didn’t see an awful lot of their father, but she understood very early on that babies didn’t arrive politely during business hours. It wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t putting his job before his family and neglecting them; he’d certainly prefer not to have to drag himself out of bed at three in the morning in the middle of winter to stand in a room while a baby virtually delivered itself. But that’s what he had to do, so that he was there on the occasions when things were not so easy or straightforward, when the fate of a baby or its mother depended on his expertise, when his presence in the room was the difference between a happy ending and a tragic one.

  So her mother had to be the rock of the family, the centre. And she performed her role so well that it was all that Lexie wanted to do when she grew up. Despite her expensive private-school education, despite her better than average results, she did not want to follow Monica or Eric into medicine. Family pressure, albeit gently applied, made it impossible for her not to at least try. She’d never actually told anyone that she didn’t want to be a doctor, so how were they supposed to know? Lexie didn’t like to let anyone down, so she dutifully enrolled in a Bachelor of Medical Science and dutifully kept her grades up so that she would be eligible for the postgraduate medicine program. And then she walked into Scott’s café. Lexie would never forget the day she first laid eyes on Scott, working behind the counter in the open kitchen, tall and gorgeous, with a smile that had simply turned her insides liquid. There was no other way to describe it. He still did it to her to this day.