Page 36 of Only One Bed: Anthology Vol. 1
“I hope you like it. It’s a local brew.” Shazza had spent more than she usually would on this meal, trying to impress Anvita. Hopefully, it wasn’t a bad idea. Their fingers touched as she handed over the cold can. A tingle in the tips of her fingers made her want to rub them against her palm to get rid of the sensation. She shouldn’t want Anvita this much, except shouldn’t had already dictated too many of her twenty-five years and she was tired of listening to it.
“Thank you. Is this how you spend your evenings?”
Shazza snorted. “Fuck no. After I’ve fed the kids, managed to get them washed, we sit down and read a book together, then I wrestle them into bed.”
“Wrestle them?”
“Mum, can we please stay up a few more minutes? Mum, I need a drink of water? Mum, why do I have to sleep anyway? It’s boring. That kind of thing. But they’re pretty good. Once they are in bed, then I try and answer client emails before I fall asleep too.”
“Right. Being a solo mum is a tough gig.”
“Yeah. I’m lucky because Marie, Shane’s mum, comes over on weekends and watches them while I work.” Shane’s dad had pissed off years ago, and Marie understood how hard it was to be a solo mum.
“You work every day?”
Shazza sipped her beer. “It’s my own business. If I don’t work, the staff don’t get paid, and we don’t eat.” She grabbed the little BBQ off the floor of the back seat of her double cab work ute and carried it to a patch of dirt. A table would be better, but this would do. It was flat and the frypan would cook evenly above the single gas burner.
“Of course. It’s just that I thought I worked ridiculous hours, but it sounds like you never stop.”
“Pretty much.” She clicked in the gas canister, checked all the settings, then pulled a box of matches out of the back pocket of her jeans. She turned on the gas, lit a match, and held up her other hand to shelter the small flame from the light breeze. The gas caught with a gentle whoosh. Excellent.
“And here you are. Making dinner and a comfortable bed for both of us.”
Shazza shrugged. “It’s fine. This is like, restful work, because It’s different to my usual work. I’m not really good at sitting still.” She glanced up at Anvita whose deep frown marred her gorgeous face. “Look, if you want to do something, how about you tell me something about you?”
The frown disappeared. “Like a story to entertain you?”
“Sure. Whatever.” She strode back to the ute to grab the rest of the supplies, then placed the frypan on the gas burner and added a dash of olive oil.
* * *
Anvita’s mind blanked.What story could she tell that would be entertaining? She always knew what to say, especially at work where her job was all about ensuring stories got told in a way that entertained audiences. They weren’t her stories though. Watching Shazza made her brain fuzzy with desire.
“I got divorced last year, about eight months ago. Though That’s not exactly an entertaining story.” Anvita didn’t really want to talk about the specifics of it, but she needed Shazza to know she was single. If ever there was a chance of the desire fizzing between them turning into something real, tonight was their best chance. Alone in the bush with a summer sky of stars above.
“Oh, That’s a bit shit.”
“Yeah. There were a whole bunch of factors. Anyway, I’ve been single since then, and…” She let her voice trail off. Shazza nodded but didn’t ask anything further. Without a prompt to continue, Anvita realised she could easily talk about work instead. Boring.
“Are you alright?”
“Better than being married to him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, we married quite young. I was a bit stupid. Naïve.”
“Can’t imagine that. You seem so contained and worldly.” Shazza glanced up from her cooking.
Anvita shook her head. “My parents didn’t approve. Brian was white, not Indian, but it wasn’t all about culture. I think they saw the bigger problems.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. He was basically Scotty from Marketing.”
Shazza roared with laughter, her head tipped back. “Holy hell. I cannot imagine you with someone like our ineffective overly fake Christian Prime Minister.”
“Like I said, young and naïve. He thought it would be good for his career to marry someone “diverse”.” She used air quotes for the word. “I was so thrilled to have his attention at first, hungry for it, but he knew that and used it for his own gain. He’d bring me to work functions, trotted out for the big bosses to demonstrate how globally focused he was. And it worked for him. He raced up the corporate ladder; for a long time, it felt like we had everything.” Anvita paused. “My father told me I’d get discarded for a younger, prettier… whiter version once Brian had the job he wanted.”
