House of Wishes by Jenn J. McLeod

Author:Jenn J. McLeod [McLeod, Jenn J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780648570806
Publisher: Wild Myrtle Press

‘I only promised to look at the business plan, Mum. Nothing more,’ Beth had assured her. But, as the concept had required significant financial input, her mother’s advice had been swift and unsurprising.

‘Be careful what you promise,’ she warned. ‘Any partnership is problematic when you don’t know the person well.’

‘Or even when you do,’ Beth muttered.

‘I gather you’re referring to your idiot ex-husband and the recent sexual harassment allegations?’ she said. ‘Some men don’t understand no means no. Such a small word. The first one every child learns. In my day, good girls did not say “no”, or question their elders. We were to be seen, not heard and expected to do what we were told. When a grownup says, “Trust me, I’d never hurt you” we believed them. At least I did.’

Beth wanted to quiz her mum, if only the woman had stopped for breath, and if only the fitting room they’d been sharing in the high-end fashion store had been big enough for Beth, her mum, and the impassioned speech she launched into.

‘Men want to make women feel powerless when we are not, Beth. We’re free to make our own choices and carve our own paths. Whatever else you do, avoid those who don’t consider strength a positive female trait. Hold tight to your independence. Speaking of tight, what do you think of this dress?’ she asked, while bending over to reposition both breasts in her bra. ‘One other thing, darling,’ her mum added. ‘Promise me, when you’re my age, you will be able to say the life you chose was the one you wanted. Make a decision now to leave nothing undone, and never settle for less when there’s more. Always hold out for the right one. Speaking of right, this neckline is all wrong. Let’s try the plain cream dress again.’

The woman who changed her hair colour as frequently as she moved houses stood with Beth in front of the dressing-room mirror. At fifty-eight, in only her bra and full briefs, her mum was still beautiful, and still with the glow of a mature bride-to-be, but with the giggle of a girl. Of all the men to win her mother’s heart, it had been a squat Italian tradesman with a smile as big as his property portfolio. Irene was finally trusting a man with her heart. Dinner at a fancy restaurant would make it official.

‘Do you suppose it’s an emerald? I might’ve dropped a hint.’ Irene grinned. ‘Maybe I’ll take the green for tonight and save the cream dress for the wedding. I’ll want everything perfect for the happiest day of my life.’

‘The happiest? Really?’ Beth quipped, as she recovered the green dress from the discarded hook. ‘And here I was thinking my birth was up there as the highlight of your life.’

The equally playful retort Beth had expected from her mum didn’t eventuate. In its place, in the fitting room filled with a mother’s mirth seconds earlier, Beth tried talking her way out of the mood-killing gaffe.

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