Read Online Perfect Blend: A Novel by Sue Margolis - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sue Margolis
Ads: Link
exhaustion, and guilt about abandoning their children.
Amy suspected that the SAHMs cried because they were bored. After another day spent attempting to soothe cracked nipples and tantrumming toddlers, they surely craved the intellectual stimulation that work provided.
She knew from listening in on their conversations that many SAHMs felt they had let themselves down by abandoning careers that as women they’d often had to fight for. These women had hung on for as long as they could before getting pregnant. Now they were knocking on forty. If they stayed at home until their babies started secondary school, they would be fifty—far too late to pick up their careers.
Amy had no intention of waiting until she was fifty. She was aware of how important it was to break into journalism now, before it was too late. And if she freelanced, she would have the luxury of being able to work from home and set her own hours.
By a quarter to twelve, there was only a handful of customers left in the café. Things would stay quiet for twenty minutes or so. Amy was in the kitchen, wiping down surfaces. Zelma was next to her, loading the dishwasher. She held up the bottle of detergent. It was almost empty. Amy said she would nip out and get some more.
“You sure, darling?”
“Positive. I need to pick up something for supper, anyway.”
Amy pulled on her jacket and took her purse out of her bag. As she walked through the café, she noticed that Brian was sitting at one of the tables with a chap in a fashionably crumpled linen suit. They were having an intense discussion about Crema Crema Crema. There was much sipping and swirling and uttering of superlatives. Amy decided that Brian wouldn’t thank her for interrupting him to ask if she could have some petty cash to pay for the dishwasher detergent. She would pay for it, and he could refund the money later.
The early summer breeze felt warm on her face. Underneath the car fumes, there was a hint of freshly mown grass. She turned her head toward the common and saw a chap in his shirtsleeves driving one of those sit-on motor mowers. She watched him for a few moments phut-phutting over the grass while mothers and dog walkers called out to their charges to keep out of the way. Aware that she was squinting in the bright light, she thought about going back for her sunglasses, but she couldn’t be bothered. Instead, she set off down the road. She paused at the posh organic butcher and looked in the window. She had a hankering for lamb chops. Then she saw the price and moved on. They would be far cheaper at the supermarket. On the other hand, there was a deli a few doors down. Maybe she would get a couple of portions of lasagne. That and beef casserole were Charlie’s favorites. She smiled as she remembered the first time she had offered her son dumplings with his casserole and he had refused them on the grounds that it was cruel to the ducks. Months later, she was still having to reassure him that baby ducks weren’t called dumplings.
She decided she would pick up the dishwasher detergent and call in at the deli on the way back. As she set off again, it occurred to her that she hadn’t spoken to her dad in days. She really ought to give him a call and see how he was doing.
Even though it had been months since her parents’ breakup, Amy still found herself moved to tears when she thought about it. Ashamed as she was to admit it, she was upset mainly for selfish reasons. Despite her being a grown-up, her “child within” felt bereft. As a couple, Phil and Val had always been strong and united. With a few exceptions, which had had more to do with Victoria’s upbringing than with hers, they had been great parents. They had always been her soft place to fall. Of course, as individuals they would always be there for her, but it wasn’t the same somehow.
Val had left Phil on the grounds that he never really spoke to her, took her out, or told her he loved her. According to Val, he was
Amy suspected that the SAHMs cried because they were bored. After another day spent attempting to soothe cracked nipples and tantrumming toddlers, they surely craved the intellectual stimulation that work provided.
She knew from listening in on their conversations that many SAHMs felt they had let themselves down by abandoning careers that as women they’d often had to fight for. These women had hung on for as long as they could before getting pregnant. Now they were knocking on forty. If they stayed at home until their babies started secondary school, they would be fifty—far too late to pick up their careers.
Amy had no intention of waiting until she was fifty. She was aware of how important it was to break into journalism now, before it was too late. And if she freelanced, she would have the luxury of being able to work from home and set her own hours.
By a quarter to twelve, there was only a handful of customers left in the café. Things would stay quiet for twenty minutes or so. Amy was in the kitchen, wiping down surfaces. Zelma was next to her, loading the dishwasher. She held up the bottle of detergent. It was almost empty. Amy said she would nip out and get some more.
“You sure, darling?”
“Positive. I need to pick up something for supper, anyway.”
Amy pulled on her jacket and took her purse out of her bag. As she walked through the café, she noticed that Brian was sitting at one of the tables with a chap in a fashionably crumpled linen suit. They were having an intense discussion about Crema Crema Crema. There was much sipping and swirling and uttering of superlatives. Amy decided that Brian wouldn’t thank her for interrupting him to ask if she could have some petty cash to pay for the dishwasher detergent. She would pay for it, and he could refund the money later.
The early summer breeze felt warm on her face. Underneath the car fumes, there was a hint of freshly mown grass. She turned her head toward the common and saw a chap in his shirtsleeves driving one of those sit-on motor mowers. She watched him for a few moments phut-phutting over the grass while mothers and dog walkers called out to their charges to keep out of the way. Aware that she was squinting in the bright light, she thought about going back for her sunglasses, but she couldn’t be bothered. Instead, she set off down the road. She paused at the posh organic butcher and looked in the window. She had a hankering for lamb chops. Then she saw the price and moved on. They would be far cheaper at the supermarket. On the other hand, there was a deli a few doors down. Maybe she would get a couple of portions of lasagne. That and beef casserole were Charlie’s favorites. She smiled as she remembered the first time she had offered her son dumplings with his casserole and he had refused them on the grounds that it was cruel to the ducks. Months later, she was still having to reassure him that baby ducks weren’t called dumplings.
She decided she would pick up the dishwasher detergent and call in at the deli on the way back. As she set off again, it occurred to her that she hadn’t spoken to her dad in days. She really ought to give him a call and see how he was doing.
Even though it had been months since her parents’ breakup, Amy still found herself moved to tears when she thought about it. Ashamed as she was to admit it, she was upset mainly for selfish reasons. Despite her being a grown-up, her “child within” felt bereft. As a couple, Phil and Val had always been strong and united. With a few exceptions, which had had more to do with Victoria’s upbringing than with hers, they had been great parents. They had always been her soft place to fall. Of course, as individuals they would always be there for her, but it wasn’t the same somehow.
Val had left Phil on the grounds that he never really spoke to her, took her out, or told her he loved her. According to Val, he was
Similar Books
