Page 85 of Lessons in Love at the Seaside Salon
No. No – she shouldn’t be so negative. She was telling herself that this morning as a way of getting out of her slump.Just because the sky feels like it’s falling doesn’t mean it is.That was one thing she told herself. Another was:Someone will love you.
She didn’t believe that one as much as she believed the other one. It’s hard to convince yourself you’re lovable when no one has, you know, loved you.Like that.Billy loves her, of course. Her mum loved her. But no one haschosenher. That’s the part that stings.
‘Maybe,’ she says to Oliver, because what else can she say in the middle of the salon with everyone listening. Even Trudy’s eyes are on stalks.
The salon door opens and with relief Evie sees it’s her next client.
‘I have to go,’ she says.
‘Can I call you?’ Oliver says.
She says, ‘Sure,’ in as blasé a fashion as possible, and walks away from him.
As she’s seating the client she’s barely aware of him leaving, and only slightly more aware of Sam hovering, and when the hovering starts to annoy her she thinks that’s a good sign: no longer can he do no wrong in her eyes.
So Oliver’s visit served one purpose at least, because it moved her a little further on from Sam. Moving all the way along will take time, however. That’s an expectation sheislearning to manage.
‘Coffee, darl?’ Sam asks – again – as he passes her on the way to the back room.
This time she says, ‘Yes,’ just to shut him up, and feels a surge of something. She realises she may just be coming back to herself, one irritation at a time.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
‘So …’ Anna rotates her glass on the coaster, which is harder than it looks like it should be.
‘So …’ Evie looks a little nervous, and Anna worries she might have made Evie feel obliged to come out for this drink. On a Friday night, when Evie probably has other things to do. Anna knows she has a young son – they have that in common – but Evie said it was fine, Billy’s father usually takes him on Friday nights. Anna’s left her kids with Ingrid, who doesn’t look after them that often and complains when she does yet asks when she can have them again.
She asked Evie to come to the pub for dinner not because she saw her crying on the beach – well, yes, kind of because she saw her crying on the beach, as that’s the reason they formed a connection beyond the salon – but mainly because she likes her, and she thinks it’s returned, and it’d be nice to have a friend with a kid around the same age as hers. Come to think of it, they’re probably at the same school – hers go to Terrigal Public, and Evie’s must too. Why hasn’t she seen Evie at anything there? Probably all the mum-things are during the day, and Evie can’t attend them because she works. And her kids often take the bus to and from school, so she wouldn’t see her then.
It’s funny to think they’ve been closer in life than they realise, and they could have kept going without knowing each other better. That’s all connections in life, though, Anna guesses – they’re made out of a combination of luck and timing and circumstance, which means we probably don’t choose ourfriends so much as fate chooses them for us. It’s nice, in a way – like we’re destined to meet certain people. Then we have to keep up our end of it, of course, by putting in the work to keep the connections going. Hence the invitation to the pub.
The pub is one that she and Gary occasionally went to when they were together, the Avoca Beach Hotel. It’s not actually on the beach, but that means it gets less of the tourist crowd so it’s nice for an evening meal. And it’s not too far from her place or from Evie’s.
‘Is your son at Terrigal Public?’ Anna asks. May as well find out.
‘Yes. You have a boy too?’
‘Yes, and a girl. Troy and Renee.’
Evie frowns. ‘Renee? There’s a Renee in Billy’s class.’
Anna smiles. ‘Yes, I, ah … I think that’s my daughter. I think our kids go to school together.’
Evie looks confused. ‘How come we’ve never seen each other at school?’
‘I was just wondering the same thing.’
They both laugh, and Anna feels herself relax a little, the way you do when you realise there are some things you don’t have to explain to the other person. Some stories you may even have in common.
‘Have you had a run-in with Mr Phelps yet?’ Evie asks.
Mr Phelps is the unpopular principal, who, among other things, keeps firing male teachers, much to Anna’s despair – she likes her kids having male role models due to the fact their father is barely around. Has been barely around. Yes, he’s making more of an effort now, but that hardly compensates for the lack of effort before.Anyway, she’s not here to talk to Evie about Gary. Although maybe they can compare notes about being single mums.
‘Not yet. I’m waiting for it, though.’
Evie sips her drink. ‘He really has it in for the boys. And the boy teachers.’
Anna nods her agreement and starts to sip her own wine when she sees something that makes her inhale that sip and start coughing.
