dragging out relationships that
were obviously over. 'Build a bridge and get over it!' was
his favourite response, but more than a few times he'd
sent me a text saying: 'You've fucked it up, now it's time
to move on.' Nine times out of ten Dillon was correct
in the advice he gave me, but I didn't really listen to it,
because it was generally the opposite to what I really
wanted to do. Perhaps I needed to add 'Heed Dillon's
advice when it comes to relating to the opposite sex,' to
my list of strategies.
It wasn't that I didn't want advice or assistance in
finding a husband – god knows I needed both. It was
just that I hated everyone knowing my business and
feeling sorry for me. It made me seem desperate, and I
wasn't. I just hadn't been in such a rush before. Having
a deadline made it all seem more of a priority than it
had been in the past.
As I drove on, I started thinking about my wedding
and considered the options. Mum had always said I
could have Archie Roach sing at the reception. I love
him singing 'Love in the Morning', probably because
I've always preferred making love at dawn. (Then again,
I don't mind a bit of afternoon delight either.) Archie
rarely performs without Ruby, though, and I didn't
know that Mum and Dad could afford to fly them both
to Sydney.
Perhaps an island wedding? The Cooks. Or Fiji.
That'd weed out the real friends, wouldn't it? Who'd
pay to travel across the Pacific to see me finally get
married?
Or what about a Sydney Harbour wedding down
at the Park Hyatt? A celebrant rather than a priest, of
course. Mum would really struggle with it, not being in
a church and all, but it would be my wedding. I'd wear
a tiara rather than veil. Designer dress, not one off the
rack. The groom would wear whatever I told him to.
A cocktail party would follow, as opposed to sit-down
meal. Dillon would MC, but I would write his speech,
or at least check it – I was a teacher, after all. I'd have
a big heart-shaped chocolate cake, with fresh red roses
around the base. We'd spend the night at the Hyatt and
then fly out the next day to honeymoon in Venice or
Paris or maybe both. We'd live happily ever after. Yes, it
was all planned.
I was so excited about the plans for my wedding
that I needed to share them with one of the girls. My
first class that morning wasn't until second period, so I
had time to make a quick call. Dannie would be at her
kids' school, helping out with reading group, and Peta
was in Canberra discussing the future of Indigenous
education, but I knew Liza would still be at home with
her face in a book or file, so I dialled her number.
'Liza, it's Alice. I'm sorting out my wedding plans,
you busy?'
'Not really, Al, just working on keeping a young fella
out of Long Bay. I'm sure his case notes can wait – your
pretend love-life is a case with far more importance.'
Was she was being sarcastic or just joking?
'So you're organising a wedding, are you? What
about the groom?' she asked almost accusingly. As
though I was breaking the law because I was trying to
organise my wedding without having found a man first.
Liza could be a real wet blanket sometimes.
'Don't bother me with details, darling!' I said,
sounding like some social butterfly and waving my free
hand nonchalantly, as though I knew the hired help
would fix the problem. I was glad Liza couldn't see me.
I wished I could hire someone to find a groom for me.
Hell, these days you could hire someone to find and buy
your dream home for you, so why not your dream man?
Anyway, I now had all the other elements of the big day
organised – the only thing I needed to worry about was
finding someone to fit into the suit. How difficult could
it be?
five
I am deadly and desirable
I was determined to prove to my family that I was
not a lesbian, but there was no way I was going to
succumb to the pressure and go on a date with Cliff to
make two in-denial mothers happy. Instead I carried
on with my project, my strategy for finding Mr Right.
I had
were obviously over. 'Build a bridge and get over it!' was
his favourite response, but more than a few times he'd
sent me a text saying: 'You've fucked it up, now it's time
to move on.' Nine times out of ten Dillon was correct
in the advice he gave me, but I didn't really listen to it,
because it was generally the opposite to what I really
wanted to do. Perhaps I needed to add 'Heed Dillon's
advice when it comes to relating to the opposite sex,' to
my list of strategies.
It wasn't that I didn't want advice or assistance in
finding a husband – god knows I needed both. It was
just that I hated everyone knowing my business and
feeling sorry for me. It made me seem desperate, and I
wasn't. I just hadn't been in such a rush before. Having
a deadline made it all seem more of a priority than it
had been in the past.
As I drove on, I started thinking about my wedding
and considered the options. Mum had always said I
could have Archie Roach sing at the reception. I love
him singing 'Love in the Morning', probably because
I've always preferred making love at dawn. (Then again,
I don't mind a bit of afternoon delight either.) Archie
rarely performs without Ruby, though, and I didn't
know that Mum and Dad could afford to fly them both
to Sydney.
Perhaps an island wedding? The Cooks. Or Fiji.
That'd weed out the real friends, wouldn't it? Who'd
pay to travel across the Pacific to see me finally get
married?
Or what about a Sydney Harbour wedding down
at the Park Hyatt? A celebrant rather than a priest, of
course. Mum would really struggle with it, not being in
a church and all, but it would be my wedding. I'd wear
a tiara rather than veil. Designer dress, not one off the
rack. The groom would wear whatever I told him to.
A cocktail party would follow, as opposed to sit-down
meal. Dillon would MC, but I would write his speech,
or at least check it – I was a teacher, after all. I'd have
a big heart-shaped chocolate cake, with fresh red roses
around the base. We'd spend the night at the Hyatt and
then fly out the next day to honeymoon in Venice or
Paris or maybe both. We'd live happily ever after. Yes, it
was all planned.
I was so excited about the plans for my wedding
that I needed to share them with one of the girls. My
first class that morning wasn't until second period, so I
had time to make a quick call. Dannie would be at her
kids' school, helping out with reading group, and Peta
was in Canberra discussing the future of Indigenous
education, but I knew Liza would still be at home with
her face in a book or file, so I dialled her number.
'Liza, it's Alice. I'm sorting out my wedding plans,
you busy?'
'Not really, Al, just working on keeping a young fella
out of Long Bay. I'm sure his case notes can wait – your
pretend love-life is a case with far more importance.'
Was she was being sarcastic or just joking?
'So you're organising a wedding, are you? What
about the groom?' she asked almost accusingly. As
though I was breaking the law because I was trying to
organise my wedding without having found a man first.
Liza could be a real wet blanket sometimes.
'Don't bother me with details, darling!' I said,
sounding like some social butterfly and waving my free
hand nonchalantly, as though I knew the hired help
would fix the problem. I was glad Liza couldn't see me.
I wished I could hire someone to find a groom for me.
Hell, these days you could hire someone to find and buy
your dream home for you, so why not your dream man?
Anyway, I now had all the other elements of the big day
organised – the only thing I needed to worry about was
finding someone to fit into the suit. How difficult could
it be?
five
I am deadly and desirable
I was determined to prove to my family that I was
not a lesbian, but there was no way I was going to
succumb to the pressure and go on a date with Cliff to
make two in-denial mothers happy. Instead I carried
on with my project, my strategy for finding Mr Right.
I had
Similar Books
