The Mimosa Tree (20 page)

‘Mother, I give you my word that I will not have sex or take drugs tonight. Okay?'

She gives me a satisfied nod and pats my cheek.

Outside, Siena is waiting for me by her car. Black and sleek under the moonlight, the Land Cruiser has the dangerous aura of a sleeping bear. Feeling special, I climb up to my seat, and peer out across the bonnet to the driveway below. Mum waves at us from the veranda, shouts some more goodbyes, but from within this sealed cabin she is a picture without sound.

‘Buckle up,' says Siena as she pushes the gear stick into reverse and propels us backwards down the driveway. There's a small bump and I look at Siena to see if she noticed it too.

‘What was that?' she says.

‘I think we ran something over.'

She shrugs, throws the car into forward and drives off. I look back to the house and see our letterbox flattened to the ground.

‘Did you see what it was?' she says as she adjusts a setting on the dash and the car pulls blindly to the left.

‘Nah,' I say. ‘Probably just a stick or something.'

‘Oh good,' she says looking up just before we run off the road. ‘I'm still getting used to how big this car is. I'm sure you could run over a dog in this thing and not notice it.'

‘Or a letterbox.'

‘Or anything. It makes me a bit nervous actually. I keep getting this weird feeling that I've left a trail of destruction behind me. Guess I'm just being paranoid.'

‘That's probably it,' I say gripping tightly to my seat as she shows no sign of slowing down for the approaching stop sign. ‘So you really going to buy a restaurant?' I say, trying to distract myself from visions of my imminent death.

‘Yep,' she says. ‘Why not?'

‘Via isn't happy about it.'

‘She worries about me, about things going wrong.'

‘She's a control freak. You should tell her to mind her own business.'

She looks at me through the dark. ‘She's been good to me, Mira. I couldn't have got through these last few months without her. She's been good to all of us, don't you think?'

‘Sure, as long as we do everything her way. She doesn't always know what's best for us.'

‘That's true,' she says. ‘And she will fight for what she believes in, but it just means you have to be much braver, and much firmer about what you want. When all the arguing is done, Via will move mountains to help you.'

‘Like Robert?' I say, rubbing my knuckles against my thigh. I'm still pretty angry at her about Robert, but I'm trying not to show it. When I think about it, I don't really have anything to be angry about, except that I thought things were one way and then they turned out to be another. ‘He's doing a lot for you lately too. It sounds like you guys are getting kinda close again.'

‘We've been talking,' she concedes. ‘Better than we ever have
I think. Sometimes, really bad things have to happen before people remember how they really feel about each other.'

‘So you are getting back together?'

‘It's not that simple, Mira. We need to take our time, you know? So we can be sure how we really feel. I don't want to make another mistake, and neither does he.'

‘So you're just going to relax and see what happens?' I say and Siena nods like I've said something really wise.

‘Sometimes it's better to take things slowly. You never know how things will unfold. I think for now it's probably better that we just stay friends.'

Friends. Just like me and Harm. Seems I am not the only one that has problems with blurred boundaries. More than once I have wondered if I made the right decision that day at the protest. What was it I needed to be so certain about? Wasn't it enough that he was willing to stick around for a while? I mean, it's not like I've got a lot of options in this area, it's not like I can afford to be choosy. I lean back, fold my arms and look at Siena through the darkness. My aunt the chameleon. Every time I look at her I see something new. She is still skinny, but there is a new glow in her face, and it's not just coming from the dashboard. Her eyes are on fire when she looks at you, and her mouth is constantly tweaked up at the corners.

‘Can I come and work for you?' I say.

‘I was counting on it, actually. I want you out the front, serving the customers. And I was hoping your mum would be out the back cooking her fabulous food.'

‘And you?'

‘I'll do a bit of both,' she says with a serious nod. ‘As manager
I need to oversee everything that's going on.'

‘And Via?' I say, and suddenly I am picturing Via's globular form pushing her way through red checked tables and beating confused customers over the head with a floury rolling pin.

‘It's early days, yet,' she says laughing. ‘Let's just wait until I get the restaurant, then we can work out who's doing what.'

‘This is it,' she says, driving up onto the kerb, and from within the Land Cruiser it feels about as significant as running over a shoe. I wind down the window and Siena leans over to take a closer look at the restaurant. I watch her study the details carefully, wondering how it sizes up against the one she imagines owning. There is a small alfresco area at the front that features a red and white striped awning, white tablecloths and Italian music crackling through speakers. What really stands out and advertises what this place is all about is the oversized cardboard cut-out of a chef with a twirly moustache and a rounded belly swinging pizza dough over his head.

‘This the kind of place you had in mind?' I say.

‘I was thinking something a bit more, umm, subtle.'

‘Yours will be much better,' I say as I give her a goodbye kiss.

She laughs and pulls me into a bony hug. ‘I'll pick you up at eleven.'

‘It's Okay, Felicia will drop me home.'

‘You sure? Won't that disturb her date?'

‘Nah, she'll be fine about it. She loves driving me around.'

Siena pulls the door closed after me. Only her eyes and hair are visible above the window line. ‘Keep an open mind, Mira. You never know what life is going to bring you.'

‘That's a nice thought,' I say. ‘But unfortunately my
expectations usually turn out to be right.'

‘Well, try to have fun anyway,' she says winding up the window. ‘And wish me luck.'

‘Good luck. Hope the business stuff works out for you.'

‘You made it!' says Felicia coming out of the door in a blast of light and sound. She's looking more dressed up than I have ever seen her, blond hair burning like a halo around her bright blue eyes and perfect full lips. She walks towards me, and I'm sure she's putting a bit more swish in her hips than usual. ‘The boys are already here,' she says, taking me by the arm. She smells heavily of perfume and nail polish. ‘And your date is very excited to meet you.'

‘I thought I made myself clear,' I say standing firm so that she can't whisk me inside. ‘I'm happy to meet your new boyfriend but whoever else you have in there is not my date, got that?'

‘I know what you're thinking,' she says, completely undeterred and still trying to tug me inside. ‘But he's really cute. And smart. I think you will actually like him.'

Even if there is a slight possibility that what she is saying is true, the fact that I have to be set up to meet someone leaves me determined not to find anything to like about tonight. It's clear, however, that Felicia is not going to be easily pushed off her cloud nine. With a sigh I relent slightly, offer a little less resistance so that she is finally able to manoeuvre me.

‘Let's just get this over with,' I say, and together we push through the swinging doors.

Inside the restaurant is about as inspiring as out. There's more red and white, louder music, and green and orange wallpaper which seems to be left over from another era and
sadly overlooked when it came to redecorating. Felicia leads me through the busy room towards a quiet corner where two guys are sitting at a candlelit table. They look equally uninteresting to me, and neither are my type. Short hair, tucked in shirts and the overpowering smell of Blue Stratos aftershave. It's clear that Felicia and I have wildly different taste in men.

‘Mira, I would like you to meet Guido. And this is Julio,' she says, pushing me forward like she is presenting me for purchase.

Julio gives me a quick eyeballing before going back to crunching on his breadstick, and his complete disinterest in me is a relief as well as a slap in the face.

‘Felicia has told me so much about you,' says Guido, standing up and offering me his hand. I take it and we end up in this strange handshake where I am the one doing all the shaking while his hand feels limp. I let go, expecting it to just drop, but he retracts it back to his side in this creepy, praying mantis kind of way and I am almost positive I see him wipe it. This is not getting off to a good start.

‘She has?' I say wondering what on earth there could be to tell about me. ‘I've heard all about you too.' Which is not really a lie, because she did tell me lots of things though I currently can't remember any of it, apart from the fact that he is a scientist of some sort.

‘So you're an artist?' says Guido leaning forward and holding his chin, like he's ready to challenge me to an arm wrestle.

‘That's an exaggerated description of what I do,' I say taking the seat Felicia is pulling out for me. ‘I'm actually studying to be a teacher.'

‘An art teacher,' says Felicia.

‘Really?' he says, sliding a breadstick from its glass holder. Felicia slips into the seat beside him and tucks herself in under his arm. He strokes her hair and twirls the breadstick at me as he speaks. ‘So what are your thoughts about modern art, then?'

‘That's a pretty large body of work you're referring to,' I say, taken aback by this sudden launch into what I consider to be a serious conversation. I was expecting some light chitchat about the weather, maybe an enquiry as to whether I found the place okay, not this dive into the complex world of art history. ‘I'm not sure I could give you a simple answer to that question.'

‘I can't stand all that weird stuff,' he says ignoring me and speaking directly to Felicia. ‘I think if you're going to paint something, you should make it look real, not just throw some splotches on a page so that people have to guess what they're looking at. I like art that shows the skill of the artist.'

‘So you're saying you don't see any skill in modern art?' I say.

He wiggles his fingers like he's trying to hypnotise me. ‘I see what I want to see. That's the point, right?' He laughs, and Felicia laughs with him. I have a vision of smashing the Mona Lisa right over his head. He may be on his way to becoming a prize scientist but the only thing he's proving to me right now is that he's a prize arse.

‘Are you ready to order?' asks a waiter, appearing like a ghost by my side.

‘I think we'll have some wine first,' says Guido and my deprived stomach wants to leap out and strangle him. He pours us all a glass and in the absence of anything other than breadsticks I take a large swallow hoping it will ease some of my pain. I am expecting the usual turpentine fumes and
mouth-puckering sourness of the wine we have at home, but am pleasantly surprised. There's a strong smell of some kind of berries followed by a smooth, warming sensation that slides all the way down my throat. I take another gulp and find it tastes even better than the first. Meanwhile, around the table, conversation seems to fall into a heap. After our initial foray into the modern art movement, everyone seems to be bogged in a moment of well-intentioned but forced grinning. That is, everyone except Julio. At this stage his preference for disengaging from the rest of the table is quite clear. I am not sure where his brain is, but by the blissfully vacuous look on his face I am guessing it's somewhere better than here.

‘You a scientist too?' I say, trying to break up the silence.

Julio looks up slowly from his plate then straight past me to some fascinating subject in the distance. I turn around to see what he is looking at but all I can see are people stuffing themselves on pizza and garlic bread. I take another long gulp of my wine; try to imagine it's a mouthful of pepperoni and cheese.

‘Julio studies psychology,' says Guido with a smirk. ‘I suppose some people would consider that a science, but I'd say it probably has more in common with your arts.'

‘I'm fascinated by the mind,' says Felicia.

‘The mind sure is fascinating,' I agree but the silence creeps in around us once again.

‘How is the wine?' says Guido.

‘Actually,' I say polishing off the rest of my glass. ‘It's really good.' And when I see how smug he looks I immediately regret saying it.

‘My father sources it from a small village in Toscana,' he
says, topping up my glass again.

Of course he does, I think to myself, and under the table I am quietly giving him the finger. How can someone with their shirt tucked into their pants be so full of themselves?

‘I love Toscana,' says Felicia taking a sip. ‘I went last year with my parents.'

‘Really?' says Guido. ‘My family owns a villa in the countryside. We holiday there whenever we can get away.'

And the two of them launch into an animated exchange as they swap stories of their adventures back in the homeland. This leaves Julio and me to deal with our awkward silence. Julio pours himself another drink. I eat a breadstick and wash the dryness down with the rest of my wine then start on another breadstick. My cheeks are starting to feel quite warm.

‘Just so that there is no misunderstanding,' I say leaning over so the others can't hear me. ‘It wasn't my idea to come here either.'

He looks up at me from his wine, rubs the rim of his glass like he's considering whether to actually acknowledge me or not. For a moment I think he's going to ignore me again, but instead, he leans in and looks me straight in the eye. ‘I think he's a wanker too,' he whispers.