33
‘And I don’t want you to be late, Dani. Not like the last time we went to dinner. I was ready to go sitting there like a prom date who’d been ditched—’
Dani hung her head. ‘Mother—’ she attempted. She clutched the silky white teddy in her hand, thinking she should put it in the ‘donate’ pile, but something in her heart clenched at the idea.
‘And then we were late to get the early menu. You know I like the early menu.’
She took a deep breath before finally breaking into her mother’s tirade. ‘I won’t be late. If you let me get off the phone. I have to finish bagging this stuff. I can’t show up at a clothing trade without actual clothing, now can I?’
Her mother humped into the phone and Dani couldn’t help it, she smiled.
‘Fine. Be here at two. Two sharp, Danielle!’
‘I will, Mom.’ She managed to say goodbye and hang up without tearing her hair out.
The room was bright now. She’d painted it yellow after her marriage to Bob had ended. Originally it had been a dark blue called December Evening, but now it was called Bright Eyed Susan. It suited her better, she thought. Suited the way she wanted her life to feel.
‘Fuck it,’ she said and tossed the white teddy in the pile for the clothing swap. It had been her wedding-night lingerie and she saw absolutely no reason to hang onto it. No reason in clinging to the past.
‘Now if we could just work on this future I’m supposed to have. A bright, fun, single woman breaking hearts and kicking ass.’ At least that was what everyone had told her. Everyone had assured her that her life would improve. That it would get better.
Dani picked up the teddy once more and ran the fabric through her fingers. She traced the lace at the edges, felt the hope this garment had once held lance through her. If she shut her eyes it was easy. Too easy, in fact. She could remember that night. The excitement, the buzz of alcohol and wedding festivities and being married. Belonging to someone.
She held it like a talisman, remembering the feel of Bob’s mouth on her mouth. Then the feel of it moving everywhere else. Kissing down her neck, licking at her collar bones, sucking one nipple and then the other. Then his hot breath and wet tongue on her navel before drifting lower. How he’d skated his teeth along the sharp jut of her hipbones and her pubis, before finally, blissfully, moving lower to where she needed it most. Settling his head between her thighs. Licking her until the entire world seemed to surge before crashing down in a wave.
How that night had seemed the beginning and the end. How everything looked shiny and new and seemed to hold magical potential.
‘Fuck,’ she said, opening her eyes and tossing it back in the pile.
That was another woman. Another life. Long gone and best forgotten. All that potential had fizzled like a soda left open. What had started as effervescent had ended up flat and cloying.
She shook her head, checked her clock and set about neatly folding the clothing she’d gathered and tucking it into boxes. Then she filled a bag with purses and another with shoes and a few belts.
‘Out with the old and in with the new!’ she declared to no one at all.
A quick shower and then she was choosing an outfit. Something her mother wouldn’t find issue with. Jeans – not too tight, not too loose – tall black boots, a smoke-grey tunic and a pendant that had been her grandmother’s. She tugged her auburn hair up into a messy topknot and added long earrings. She regarded herself in the mirror and tried on a smile. She loved her mother more than anything but sometimes she had to steel herself to spend long bouts of time with her.
‘She’s going to hate the hair,’ she told her reflection. Then she shrugged, gathered her bags, found her purse, and headed to her mom’s. She had plenty of time, she thought smugly. So there would be no reason at all for her mother to complain. Well, at least not about her being late.
* * *
Helen Young was leaning against her front fence talking to a neighbour when Dani pulled up. Her mother tossed her a wave and went right on yapping. She was decked out in a sage-coloured suit, a cream blouse and some sensible heels. Her greying hair was tucked up into a sleek French twist. It had once been the same shade of auburn as Dani’s, a rich mix of red and dark brown. Now it was heavily streaked with silver. Not grey, her mother always pointed out … silver.
Dani put the car in park, took a fortifying breath and climbed out.
‘She’s on time!’ Helen declared to no one and everyone.
Mrs Fletcher from next door, a few years older than her mom and prone to wearing housecoats all day every day, waved her newspaper at Dani. ‘Hi, hon!’
‘Hi, Mrs Fletcher. How are you?’
‘Still alive!’ she called with a cackle.
‘Good to hear.’ Dani went to her mom, kissed her powdered cheek. ‘Hi, Mom. Your bags?’
‘All up on the porch just waiting for the cavalry to arrive to help me.’
‘Here I am.’ Dani began to load them two at a time. The front steps were steep brick and she’d warned her mother not to attempt bringing the bags down on her own.
When they were all loaded, Dani turned to her mom, who was still rattling on across the fence.
‘Mom?’
When her mom finally took a breath and looked