Someone Special

I organised two weeks off work during the school holidays in January 1999, and we hit the road in our MPV.

We commenced a road trip, including Sydney to the north. I spoke regularly to Coral by phone about art, fashion and now my growing daughters.

We enjoyed face-to-face contact occasionally in Melbourne when our visits to my parents coincided with visits by Coral to her parents or the gallery's requirements directed her south.

My buddy rarely talked about her private life at these meetings, though I knew she had a current boyfriend.

When I called and told her my family and I were coming to Sydney, she insisted we stay in her apartment.

"Four young girls!" I started.

"I've plenty of room," she bubbled, "and I will keep them busy, don't you doubt it!"

Following a meandering trip, including regular playground stops, we reached Sydney.

We roamed and rambled. Rhea liked waterfalls and look-out points. I preferred stopping at anything, heritage or historical.

"More boring daddy stuff," the twins bemoaned.

We found Coral's address in a swank high-rise apartment block. I used an access code my bestie gave me to get into the garage zone below the building. She had a double car park space in the depths of the apartment complex. We parked next to a stylish red Mazda sports car.

Everyone carried something to the elevator, including Phoebe, even if she only managed her teddy bear. We exited the lift on the top floor, filed along a wide corridor, and rang Coral's apartment door.

The twins took turns with the chime.

Rhea and I wore summer shorts and a T-shirt. Our girls were smartly attired, wearing light-coloured sundresses.

The apartment door opened. The sunlight shards behind her made Coral's hair glow like melted butterscotch.

Little Phoebe, wide-eyed, let burst, "Wow, an angel!"

My bestie shared a memorable laugh with Phoebe, whom she lifted as she exclaimed, "Cute teddy bear!"

Phoebe made an instant friend as she wrapped her arms around Coral's neck.

My best friend presented her usual delightful self in a light blue designer dress. Whatever Coral's inner emotional disposition, her physical one showcased the trimmings in an extensive apartment.

"Four bedrooms," she stated when Rhea asked.

I perused the recent modern art acquisitions lining her lounge room wall: Whiteley, Fairweather and Olsen. My bestie had the style and the money to acquire the tasteful.

"Let's get you set up in your rooms," she said. "One for Mum and Dad first," she informed the girls.

She invited us into the room where her parents stayed when visiting.

Coral asked the girls who should have this room.

Our girls chorused, "Mummy and Daddy."

I had asked Coral if Miranda and Phoebe could share a room during a prior call.

Coral obliged.

"A special room for you, Phoebe, and your big sister," as Coral guided us to the next bedroom.

We shared a walk-in look. I imagined stepping into my youth—a room lined with shelves of soft toys and indoor plants, inside and outside the balcony.

Phoebe jumped up and down; she liked the room, especially the toys. Miranda embraced the greenery.

The twins bagged what Coral termed a grown-up's room. They liked hearing someone say they were grown up.

When Coral added, "My dearest friend, after your daddy, recently stayed here; her name is Ruby."

I nearly bit my tongue.

Ruby!

I locked my fingers to stay calm.

My composure returned as I focussed on the brightness of the room. The light, the sea-blue walls mirrored the balcony's harbour view. I realised Coral remained friends with Ruby.

In contrast, I had Ruby in deep mental quarantine, where I sought to keep her.

I soon found relief.

Coral prompted us to the kitchen, offering drinks and a delicious chocolate cake. I avoided bringing Ruby into my conversations with Coral during our stay.

My bestie likewise didn't mention Ruby.

She knew the pixie, and I had drifted apart.

Digesting a second serving of cake, Coral helped us.

"Okay, girls," my bestie excitedly proposed, "follow me! Let mum and dad unpack."

Rhea and I peeked into Coral's room between emptying our travel bags and the girls.

My bestie's décor was elegant and colour-coordinated in a light, suffused master bedroom. My girls and Coral played dress-up. Anything beyond last year's fashion lay in a rainbow spread on her bed. The girls enjoyed a grand time swishing in fancy fabrics whilst Coral twittered.

We ate breakfast and dinner with Coral each day - lunch was impossible - my bestie's work schedule. As a family, we enjoyed playing at the beach, watching the animals at the zoo, and sightseeing on a harbour cruise over the next few days.

Coral organised an evening dinner invite for Rhea and me before we arrived in Sydney. She hinted it would be a chance to meet her 'current' boyfriend, Daniel.

Current!

I wondered how many boyfriends she had had over her years in Sydney.

Not in a sex partner way.

I wished my bestie settled.

Coral booked a high-class restaurant.

"Delish seafood," she relayed, "a difficult place to get into at short notice."

She invited Rhea to go dress shopping the afternoon before our dinner engagement.

Coral beamed, "I have the perfect boutique in mind!"

Meanwhile, the eager girls and I lapped up the Sydney aquarium as a treat.

Miranda joked, "I hope none of these beautiful fish is on your plate tonight."

Coral arranged a professional sitter used by a work colleague.

Returning from the aquarium, I spruced myself in our room.

While according to my girls, 'the big girls' dressed in Coral's room.

I stood in the lounge room adjusting my tie, waiting for my lady and best friend. Coral emerged first. She gave me the once-over.

"Not bad," she remarked.

I wore what doesn't fail a guy: black pants, a white shirt and a carnation tie. Coral gifted me the tie.

My bestie donned an evening dress, pistachio green. She paraded stunning without flaunting style.

Rhea emerged smiling shyly like a girl on prom night. She meted hesitant steps and issued me a series of nervous glances. My eyes sparked to her as she found her graceful movement and opened her stance.

I whispered in her ear, "Classy."

Her evening dress draped and swathed watermelon pink. Coral coordinated our outfits.

Rhea looked sweet enough to eat.

I studied Coral's and Rhea's heels; they matched their dresses.

I checked when the girls turned; I wore bright blue socks!

I remembered I promised to read to the twins before Rhea and I left. I usually read their bedtime story. Alicja and Alina perched eagerly on a sofa, waiting in anticipation. They packed a favourite book for the trip.

"What story would you like?" I invited them, sensing their choice.

We had read them all, some over and over.

"Oh, you know," they replied in sync.

They nestled in, one on each of my shoulders. I read to the twins from their favourite book, a collection of bible stories—a Sunday school prize of mine.

The story started: Little maid was far away from home.

After finishing the story, I kissed their foreheads; it was time to go. I watched the sitter divide bananas and apples between the girls in the kitchen as Rhea, Coral, and I waved at the apartment door.

My bestie drove us to the waterfront in her flashy sports car.

Coral's boyfriend greeted us at the restaurant's bar.

His grey silk blend suit shone, and his pants made a slick rustle as he moved in a stride like a male runway model. He gripped my hand firmer than I was used to for a shake. He gave me confident, steady, business-style eye contact.

Crafted, I thought, pitching his personality to me as open.

Closer, his suit oozed expensive, a quality Italian piece. He wore a green tie, and I later noticed matching green socks.

Daniel lured into Coral's lion den.

He disported, tall with a chesty build yet limber. Athletic and chiselled, Coral mentioned he played rugby and cricket.

Attempting to hold my stomach in, I thought you need more exercise.

After shaking my hand and Rhea's, he pounced straight for Coral's waistline — as if he owned her.

Daniel worked in banking. He collected art as an investment. He met Coral at an open gallery night.

Our evening dinner at the restaurant unfolded first-rate. The pier venue deserved its Michelin stars. Daniel and I talked about sports in general; rugby got him incredibly excited. His head tipped back, and his arms swung as he emphasised scoring an unbelievable try.

The seafood courses included abalone, scallops and crayfish. I watched as he unpacked an exciting cricket match, talking to Rhea; he won, hitting the winning runs off the final ball.

His blue eyes commanded in a conversation, and his strong jaw reinforced his opinions. Coral laughed at his key lines. It was apparent their spare hands met under the table.

Coral and Rhea chatted about the restaurant dishes. The topic joining us all was travel stories.

After a sensational meal, we stood at a short distance as Coral and Daniel said goodnight. Coral gave him her cheek outside the restaurant, and he kissed it readily.

I noticed Coral didn't curl her finger through her hair near her ear: her signature Josh move.

I trussed my opinion; Coral and her current man, I hope they both had what they desired.

Coral told us a polite Dan wouldn't come to her apartment because she hosted guests.

I wondered if Coral gave him the directive!

We thanked the sitter when we returned to Coral's apartment. My bestie saw her to the door. The girls curled fast asleep, yet Rhea checked on them.

Coral opened a late-night bottle of white wine so we could chat. We sat on swivel stools on each side of her kitchen bench. Tomorrow was our last day in Sydney before heading home.

"Well, what do you think?" she pried.

I knew she wasn't talking about the wine, which tasted superb, as I let the crisp citrus flavours hit my tongue.

She bided time, sipping her sauterne. I saw her rapid blinking, and her eyes squeezed in nervously. Coral valued my opinion because she trusted me.

Below the bench, I picked at a cuticle.

"Coral," I forced out, "if you're happy, I'm happy for you."

I sunk a decent quaff of wine.

My bestie leaned in across the bench.

"Daniel's polite. I wish he loved art and didn't only buy it! He's taken me to some great smart-set parties. He hasn't taken me to meet his parents because I'm not Catholic, but he's good in…."

Coral stopped, did a faux pas laugh, and covered her mouth.

"Sounds good, oh, the polite bit," I babbled fast, "and the good bit, too!"

We raucously laughed.

Rhea joined us after checking the kids were in dreamland. We chatted 'til late about wine and food.

Getting into bed, Rhea questioned, "What do you think?"

"My bestie can do better," I said quietly yet assuredly.

Daniel was decent; I qualified in my head.

Then, Coral deserved someone special.

"You should introduce Josh to Coral," Rhea suggested.

I fluffed the pillow to avoid a response.

My wife, I realised, kept seeing them as a potential pair, unaware of their messy past.

She came close to putting her hands on her hips but stopped.

Rhea's fingers instead touched her wedding ring.

She sensed more of a story and subtly invited me to divulge it.

I pondered Josh and Coral together in college and recalled how I contributed to their split.

I abrogated: They had new paths now.

I fluffed the second pillow and told myself off: weak thinking.

Re-introduce them crossed my mind.

Rhea extended her wedding finger, "What happened between them," she asked, like dipping your toes carefully into the water.

My wife's question spurred me to provide an outline.

On the bed, she gazed at me as I recounted, apart from how I let them both down and left out myself in the boathouse.

"Mmm," she mulled, reaching and cuddling into me, "They should get back together."

I excused myself and trundled to the en-suite bathroom, brooding before bed. Returning, I twisted the bottom edge of my pyjama top.

Rhea inquired, "What's the matter?"

I shrugged; she let it pass and flicked off the bedside light.

Spooning in, she held me, "Don't mull, apple of my eye."

She kissed my neck.

Coral and Josh, the past. Like me and… I told myself, don't go there; you are happy.

Rhea snuggled into me, sleeping immediately.

I thought her apple with a rotten bit because I let Coral and Josh down — faster than popping balloons in the boathouse after Halloween.

Following a yummy muffin and honey breakfast, Rhea and I started packing, ready to leave. Coral insisted she would keep the girls entertained. Rhea began to fill our bags. I went to the washroom, and finishing, I peeped through Coral's open bedroom door.

My bestie knelt on her tiled floor in a circle of girls.

"Okay, your turn, Miranda," she directed.

My daughter started twirling Coral's childhood wooden spinning top. It was so heart-warming that it brought a tear to my eye.

"You're better than your daddy," Coral told her, patting her shoulder and chuckling.

There was a keenness in my step helping Rhea pack, driven by my bestie's sharing of simple fun with my girls.

The girls said goodbye to their 'Auntie Coral' as they named her before she headed off to work.

Coral had trouble leaving as she accepted repeated young girl hugs, sure to crease her purple dress.

We informed the girls of a special treat for our last morning in Sydney, and the girls squealed in excitement.

The girl's boisterous nature dipped when we alighted outside a sandstone-columned art gallery.

Their nosedive quickly turned to eagerness when Rhea and I told them Coral worked there.

"Can we see Auntie Coral?!" Miranda enthused.

"Yes, she wants to share a painting with you," I disclosed.

A punctual Coral graced the central court wearing her creaseless pale purple dress. She asked the girls to hold hands. Two each side of her, and as a group, she led them through where she worked.

The painting she chose to share: The Ferry. 

In the picture, there are colourfully dressed ladies, girls and gents. They are getting into a small boat from a jetty.

Coral organised the girls to take turns finding detail and colour in the painting. She told the story of the artist and how to look into a picture.

The girls delighted with oohs and ahs at Coral's fun details and how she invited them to search.

A sizeable audience of gallery patrons listened in on Coral's story.

They gave a clap when she finished.

A jetty, Coral and a jetty, I didn't go there.

We completed our goodbyes in the central hall.

Coral and I shared a hug.

As a family, we hit the road and arrived home after a two-day drive.