True Man

My breath held — I sucked deep, and butterflies rippled loose in my stomach as my hands lay across my midriff.

Coral's qualitative call on Jenny arrived, "She's a go girl; you are a stay boy."

She touched my wrist.

My breaths slowed as I buried my hands in the bowels of my pockets.

I scanned artworks hanging afar: insights into Schiele's introspection.

I framed Rhea, returning in the middle distance, intercepted by a mutual friend. And closer in the shadows of the alcove, the outline of an amber tie as my head dipped before my eyes closed.

"You are you — and you are fine, my bestie," said Coral, searching for my hands.

She made me take them out of my pockets and held them inside hers.

She finished with her warmest natural smile as she gave me another detail.

Coral knew my love of the specific. She gave me a detail to hold and release amber eyes.

"Jenny wore these exquisite pink cowry earrings. They set off her tied raven hair. She's beautiful for her age."

My chin raised, and my shoulders lifted.

"So are you, my bestie," I touched Coral's forearm.

I wished to ask if she had found her special one.

My lips pursed; my eyes soothed into hers. She understood my unspoken question from the repressed look I gave her.

I hoped her response covered no suppressions as she said, "I'm fine; I'm solo. I've plenty to do."

We collected and clinked a glass of champagne while we waited for Rhea.

God, of everyone in the world — Coral was the one I wished who had her true man.

I remembered a phone conversation with her about six months after our visit with the girls - the trip to Sydney where Rhea and I met Daniel.

It tallied over ten years before the Schiele showcase.

Coral and I engaged in our usual phone chat about art, fashion and my girls.

I inquired, "How's Daniel?"

My bestie hadn't mentioned him. Perhaps, Coral's silence should have been my hint not to say his name.

A rare, awkward silence ensued as we reversed roles.

My bestie, unnaturally quiet!

I tried to coax her to speak!

"Coral, talk to me. Sorry, my bad," I apologised.

Her mobile might as well have been dead. Finally, she reacted. I heard a sniffle and snuffle. My mention of Daniel induced her to cry!

"It was his fault and mine," she started.

I blurted my heartfelt apology to her, "Not you, Coral," attempting to calm her by using her name.

I never liked her blue, yet currently, she sounded miserable.

"His parents insisted he marry Catholic, and I ummed and aahed."

Then she stopped talking; she halted in an ungodly long pause.

The church wasn't strong in Coral's life. 

I wondered how Coral decided and how it cost her, Daniel.

"Oddly enough, Ruby helped me through it," she re-started.

I exclaimed shakily, "Ruby!"

Her name damn well shocked me.

"Oh dear," Coral offered. "I forgot you two don't talk. Anyway, I didn't take her advice."

What the hell had the brunette suggested?

Luckily, I avoided repeating this to Coral.

"Ruby, rather flippant, proposed I should convert to Catholicism if I wanted him. She advised — words are only words."

Ruby and pleasure, ignoring the discourse of the heart!

I kept this opinion to myself.

"I couldn't," Coral quavered, "we broke it off. I told Dan it wasn't me unless I believed in it. And I don't."

I set out to cheer her.

Luckily, I didn't have to think hard.

I babbled, "Phoebe has a goldfish."

It wasn't the time to reveal her last one had died. My little dear tried hard to be a good pet owner. Behind the scenes, Rhea and I cleaned the tank and monitored the filter.

"Oh, cute," chimed Coral. "What is its name?"

"Coral," I responded.

"What?" Coral asked.

"It's Coral," I emphasised. 

We both laughed.

Then, a quiet pause.

Coral said, " Since I brought up Ruby. She was never the girl for you. A girlfriend for me, yes. "

I agreed, "Yes."

Insightful, she added, " I can't help myself; she reminds me of the girl in Schiele's aptly titled, nothingisimpossible, not the red hair, but the restlessness in her eyes and the model's flaunted locks snaring you to her lush lips."

"I'm glad Ruby and you remained friends."

Coral let me leave the conversation there.

Rhea rejoined Coral and me in the Schiele landscape gallery. However, Coral's arm was pressed away to meet some state art honcho. Over her shoulder, she promised to catch us later. Rhea started talking about the friend she spoke to who scored invite tickets. My ears listened to her though my mind travelled.

I tried to understand the detail Coral supplied me regarding Jenny.

The earrings. 

I gave them to Jenny as a gift. I liked that Jenny found an occasion to wear them.

I mulled over why Coral said, Your Jenny, my Jenny!

The names we pair. 

I doubted Jenny would have liked me to say my Jenny or be called your Jenny. 

Yet my memory uses my Jenny!

I sought the easy way out. I shared wine and nibbles with Rhea to stop further thoughts about Jenny.

Holding a glass of wine, it eddied, I willed myself to keep it still.

Stay in the present, I urged myself.

Rhea talked about tomorrow.

We had a brunch the next day to look forward to. An anniversary present from Coral. After this, my busy best friend's schedule saw her booked on a return flight to Sydney.

"Have you drunk too much," Rhea whispered.

I realised my hand trembled, making my wine swirl and swish.

"Tired, let's go," I tendered.

As I suspected, the demand for the convivial Coral remained high. Rhea and I agreed to depart the retrospective, unable to monopolise any more of my bestie's company.

Coral only scheduled us as we met at St. Kilda the next day, mid-morning. She chose a café within sight of Luna Park.

Two thoughts surged into my mind.

I envisioned where Coral and Josh were last together decades ago. 

I recalled Rhea's inkling shared years past; Josh and Coral should re-pair.

While scanning the specials on the café chalkboard menu, I remembered a call Josh made to me in the winter of 2001.

He secured mains power at his homestead and phone coverage, finally.

I put my foot straight into it, "Great, will Bianca stay with you in your amazing grand house?"

"No, she left me. The house and even the small town were too isolated. She tried. Bianca accepted a city vet position."

He couldn't hide his sadness; it seeped out between his words.

I probed, "Are you okay, mate?"

"Yes, I contemplated selling this place. I don't know. I'm attached to its character."

His voice exposed his fondness for his home. I figured selling would never be an option.

"It's an awesome home, Josh," I offered, trying to perk him up.

I didn't add that he deserved a partner in its homely grandeur.

My mate's voice steadied, "This place will keep me busy for years. I'm into restoring the upstairs. I have plans to install a skylight in the loft. Yeah, life is okay."

Okay was fine.

No, it wasn't! 

Josh deserved someone to take his breath away and curl his toes.

The topics of conversation between my mate and me avoided women hereafter as the years rolled.

Likewise, as Coral and I kept in contact, we avoided speaking of the blokes in her life.

God knows what Ruby and Coral gabbed about over the years!

Brunch with Coral rolled splendidly. We followed her selection of avocado, pear, and candied walnut salad. Coral's dress outclassed the vibrant mix of greens on our plates. She wore a full-length, chic jade tone.

We walked to the cake shops nearby after brunch. Coral chose a delicious flaky French vanilla cream, one slice for each of us. We chilled at a small table in a cosy corner of the bakery.

"Yum," Coral lip smacked after munching, "Geez, we shared some great cakes growing up!" 

I liked how she chose to look back.

She cherished sweet moments of the past.

Finishing the pastry flakes, she glanced at her watch.

"I'll get a snack for my plane trip," she chirped, followed by a grin.

She excused herself from our table as Rhea and I finished our coffee. My bestie reappeared, carrying two plates and a small paper packet.

"Oh, this looked too scrumptious not to share," she gushed.

She brought herself and us a sensational peanut brittle. She took a moment to leisurely plate Rhea and me a slice.

"I have to go," she griped, smiling as she urged us to stay and eat the treat.

We stood, stretched arms, three hugged longer than necessary and lingered over our goodbyes. Rhea and I watched through the shop window as Coral grabbed a cab at the rank across the street and headed to the airport.

Rhea and I followed my bestie's fun advice as we enjoyed another coffee noshing the peanut brittle. However, I crunched hard and realised I had chipped a tooth. My tongue kept finding the rough edge and drew a taste of blood.

I preferred not to tell Rhea until we arrived home. She checked and confirmed what my smarting tongue knew. I booked a dentist appointment to repair the tooth surface. Two days later, I plonked myself in a dentist's waiting room.

My tongue kept seeking the unevenness, triggering a recall of decades ago when I chipped a different tooth.