105 / 156
107
‘
Can I help anyone to any drinks?
’ I ask, holding thewine out, purposefully
displaying the label, which reads:
Margaret River, Shiraz, 1985
. Mum’s
face lights up, Dave nods pleasingly, and Mick holds out his glass.
Isabelle pulls a disgusted face that I had seen so many times before.
‘
I’m not drinking. I’m watching my weight.
’ She said as she gestures to
her flat stomach and her forgotten appetite. I look to my full glass,
my portly belly and then to my wedding ring, surrounded by my
bulging fingers.
I spent the majority of the night in the kitchen. The smell of the
pie oozes out of the crevices of the oven, and it relaxes me. Feeling
that it’s ready, I take it out, and carefully serve a generous piece on
each plate.
Dinner continues. Conversations are tailored around her successes,
her ambitions and her interests. I watch the candle sway erratically,
and remain silent.
As everyone places their cutlery together in the centre of their plate,
I collect the dishes. Her plate remains virtually untouched. I notice a
movement of the carrots and potato, but the pie sits full and cold.
Before I can shed a tear, I grab the dishes and disappear into the
kitchen. I place them down and run my hands along the kitchen
bench. Like a monsoon that would begin ever so gently, a tear rushes
downmy face. I had fallen into the position that I had at the beginning
of the night: shoulders hunched, resting on the bench, head in my
chest. I can’t control my hatred for her.
How can she be so rude?
I am so
angry, so jealous, and so sick and tired. I have had enough.
Moments passed, I remain still and distraught. Like a strike of
lightning I heard the dishes clatter. I look up, shocked to find her
slowly placing them into the sink and washing them with her hands.
Her sleeves are rolled up, hair is pulled back, and face expressionless.
At first I am confused. It is dead silent. The wind outside had
stopped wailing and had calmed itself. I sniff. I realize that this was
the first time, in the many years that I had known her, that we are
alone together. She seems different; normal. She is not nasty, and is
acting out of kindness. And it is then that the heavens opened. I
can’t control the relief, as tears stream down my face. She has been
hiding behind someone that she isn’t. We are alike, and she is
nothing different to me.
‘
Petrichor
10