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Authors: Mary Elizabeth Coen
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“Why don’t we just cut the bullshit and head back to my place?”
I said, amazed, “I thought we were going for dinner to Shanahans?”
“Not hungry any more.” He took his mobile phone from his pocket. “I’ll cancel.”
I tried to calm myself down before I spoke: “Look. To be brutally honest, you are not what I expected. I could never have anything in common with you.” I stood up as well.
“I’m leaving on my own.”
As I turned on my heel, I could hear him spluttering behind me: “Wha… What the hell? Bloody women!”
On the drive back to my parents’ house, I felt exasperated by the amount of effort I had gone to for such a silly date. No wonder I had loved Trevor’s gentlemanly ways, if I had just
encountered the alternative. For all his airs and graces, the man I had just met was no more civilized than a Neanderthal. My good opinion of men was being rapidly flushed down the toilet to the
extent I wondered was evolution going backwards. My mother had been right when she used to say, “Manners maketh the man.”
As I drove in the gate, I was startled to see my sister Liz’s car already there. Damn! I knew she’d guess by the way I was dressed that I had been out on a date and would assume I
was back so early because I’d been stood up. I parked my own car around the side. Grabbing a packet of tissues, I wiped off most of my makeup and shoved my hair into a ponytail with a
scrunchie that I found in the central console. Ditching the heels, I rooted around for the ballerina flats, then I pulled on a sloppy grey cardigan I kept on the seat beside me for chilly days. The
result was more casual chic and should not arouse Liz’s suspicions.
Just as I turned my key in the door, it opened from the other side. Liz was standing there holding the door open, dressed in immaculately well-cut camel slacks and a white shirt, her blonde hair
pulled into a neat chignon at the base of her neck. An effortless preppy style which made most women look drab. “I heard your car arrive. Mam thought you wouldn’t be back till later.
She said you’d glammed up and gone out for a meal.” She frowned, checking out my appearance.
“Good to see you, Liz. I met an old college pal and we decided to go to a bistro for a quick bite. She had to go home as her babysitter couldn’t stay long.” I pecked her on the
cheek before heading for the living area adjoining the kitchen. I became aware of an overall quietness to the house. “Where are Mam and Dad?”
“Gone next door for a couple of drinks. How’s Trevor?” Liz was smiling benignly.
“How would I know?” I answered, flopping into an armchair.
“All my friends said you were such a lovely couple. Don’t give up hope.” She joined her hands together and looked at me with her head tilted, lips pursed.
I’d half expected this since she had lectured me on the phone after we split up. She made me feel I was the one to blame and I hadn’t bothered defending myself to her. But I was in
no mood for her crap this evening. “What are you talking about? Get real! I wouldn’t take him back at this stage if he crawled in on his belly.”
“Oh Kate, that was always your problem. You never could compromise.”
“Just because everything runs according to plan for you, it doesn’t make the rest of us wrong!” I stood up to face her. “You seem to have been born with an inbuilt manual
of how to live a successful life. You stage-manage your husband and your kids, just like you always do with Dad. You wrap him around your little finger. Life doesn’t work that way for me.
I’ve tried but it seems we’re all different…”
Liz butted in, “You’ve nobody but yourself to blame for your marriage break-up, Kate. You’ve always hankered after some mad bohemian life that really you know nothing about.
You were never grateful for what you had.”
What was irking her? I had been through too much to let her away with this. “And we’re all supposed
I said, amazed, “I thought we were going for dinner to Shanahans?”
“Not hungry any more.” He took his mobile phone from his pocket. “I’ll cancel.”
I tried to calm myself down before I spoke: “Look. To be brutally honest, you are not what I expected. I could never have anything in common with you.” I stood up as well.
“I’m leaving on my own.”
As I turned on my heel, I could hear him spluttering behind me: “Wha… What the hell? Bloody women!”
On the drive back to my parents’ house, I felt exasperated by the amount of effort I had gone to for such a silly date. No wonder I had loved Trevor’s gentlemanly ways, if I had just
encountered the alternative. For all his airs and graces, the man I had just met was no more civilized than a Neanderthal. My good opinion of men was being rapidly flushed down the toilet to the
extent I wondered was evolution going backwards. My mother had been right when she used to say, “Manners maketh the man.”
As I drove in the gate, I was startled to see my sister Liz’s car already there. Damn! I knew she’d guess by the way I was dressed that I had been out on a date and would assume I
was back so early because I’d been stood up. I parked my own car around the side. Grabbing a packet of tissues, I wiped off most of my makeup and shoved my hair into a ponytail with a
scrunchie that I found in the central console. Ditching the heels, I rooted around for the ballerina flats, then I pulled on a sloppy grey cardigan I kept on the seat beside me for chilly days. The
result was more casual chic and should not arouse Liz’s suspicions.
Just as I turned my key in the door, it opened from the other side. Liz was standing there holding the door open, dressed in immaculately well-cut camel slacks and a white shirt, her blonde hair
pulled into a neat chignon at the base of her neck. An effortless preppy style which made most women look drab. “I heard your car arrive. Mam thought you wouldn’t be back till later.
She said you’d glammed up and gone out for a meal.” She frowned, checking out my appearance.
“Good to see you, Liz. I met an old college pal and we decided to go to a bistro for a quick bite. She had to go home as her babysitter couldn’t stay long.” I pecked her on the
cheek before heading for the living area adjoining the kitchen. I became aware of an overall quietness to the house. “Where are Mam and Dad?”
“Gone next door for a couple of drinks. How’s Trevor?” Liz was smiling benignly.
“How would I know?” I answered, flopping into an armchair.
“All my friends said you were such a lovely couple. Don’t give up hope.” She joined her hands together and looked at me with her head tilted, lips pursed.
I’d half expected this since she had lectured me on the phone after we split up. She made me feel I was the one to blame and I hadn’t bothered defending myself to her. But I was in
no mood for her crap this evening. “What are you talking about? Get real! I wouldn’t take him back at this stage if he crawled in on his belly.”
“Oh Kate, that was always your problem. You never could compromise.”
“Just because everything runs according to plan for you, it doesn’t make the rest of us wrong!” I stood up to face her. “You seem to have been born with an inbuilt manual
of how to live a successful life. You stage-manage your husband and your kids, just like you always do with Dad. You wrap him around your little finger. Life doesn’t work that way for me.
I’ve tried but it seems we’re all different…”
Liz butted in, “You’ve nobody but yourself to blame for your marriage break-up, Kate. You’ve always hankered after some mad bohemian life that really you know nothing about.
You were never grateful for what you had.”
What was irking her? I had been through too much to let her away with this. “And we’re all supposed
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