Day 19: Host a dinner party
Esmé ran around the dining room table lighting the candles, her heart pounding ten to the dozen. Five starters of warm goat’s cheese tartlets were ready and awaiting her guests. She’d checked that each place setting had the necessary cutlery and glasses – she was aiming for a sophisticated evening, with wholesome food and good conversation.
She checked her appearance in the oval mirror above the mantelpiece. She’d grown used to her new hair style and colour, but the asymmetrical fringe still baffled her. Wearing the second of her new outfits suggested by Minnie, a dusky green dress with a chain belt detail, Esmé felt good, confident in fact.
The cooker timer sounded in the kitchen, announcing that the beef bourguignon would be cooked to perfection. Having prepped and set the slow cooker before work, she had arrived home to the delicious aroma. Her mustard mash and green beans would be tasty accompaniments.
Esmé donned the padded oven gloves, removed the heavy dish from the slow cooker and stared at the kitchen clock.
‘Where are they?’
She’d given them all strict instructions to be home for seven o’clock and now, at ten minutes past, she had starters cooling on the table and a main course ready cooked but no dinner guests.
‘That smells good,’ said Russ, entering the kitchen and nosing over her shoulder at the offerings before he rummaged under the sink unit.
‘I’m pleased, I did say I’d cook tonight.’
‘Oh.’ Russ stopped, looked up pretty sheepishly and winced. ‘Sorry… didn’t I mention I was heading out with a date?’
‘No, you bloody well didn’t… Russ! I did say last night.’
‘Look, save me some and I’ll warm it in the microwave when I get back.’
‘Couldn’t she join us for a bite to eat?’
‘Nope!’
‘Russ? This was my way of saying thank you for letting me move in,’ adding. ‘And for being so supportive about killing his pet.’
‘Sorry,’ he said grabbing a small tin of polish and brushing the front of his shoes. ‘First date and all that… you know what it’s like?’
‘Ha ha, I was stood up on my return to dating so no, I don’t know.’
‘Until I know her a little better… we won’t be doing friends and family introductions.’
‘You’ve let me down big style,’ said Esmé, stirring cornflour into the cooking dish to thicken the sauce.
‘I’m sure Jonah will scoff the lot and as for your brother… that cooking pot wouldn’t hold enough for his gut.’
Esmé collected the potatoes from the stove and began draining, ready to mash.
‘Where’s Dam?’
‘His mum’s.’
Esmé whipped around, her potato masher held high.
‘Tonight, of all nights?’
‘He always eats at his parents on a Monday.’
‘I specifically asked him last night. What’s the point of him even having a room – he only sleeps and showers here?’
Russ shrugged, finished polishing his shoes and put the tin away.
‘Ask him, not me.’
‘Ask me what?’ called Jonah, entering the kitchen, dressed in faded jeans and a white shirt. ‘How much would a replacement Chilean Rose cost?’
‘Not you, Dam.’ Esmé blushed, her guilt hadn’t diminished during the day.
‘He’s always at his parents’, so good luck with that task.’
‘Exactly. Why pay rent when you can live at your parents and get fed each night?’
‘He’s pretty spoilt actually… though with six sisters he needs to be,’ added Jonah, who pulled up a chair at the kitchen table and sniffed at the cooking pot which Esmé was guarding.
‘Six?’ queried Esmé, putting the strained green beans into a serving dish.
‘I’m pretty sure it’s seven,’ corrected Russ.
‘Either way, I’d move out,’ muttered Jonah, adding. ‘Are you serving or not?’
‘I am when…’ her sentence faded. Dam was out, Russ was going out, Kane was nowhere to be seen and Asa must be at work.
What a waste of time and a failed effort to be generous to her housemates.
Esmé stared at Jonah’s eager eyes.
Dinner for two, it is then.
‘Jonah, are you coming through or not?’ she moaned, carrying two steaming dishes from the kitchen towards the dining room.
‘Are we eating posh tonight?’ asked Jonah, collecting the beef bourguignon pot en-route. ‘I’d have dressed for dinner had I known.’
*
The candle light threw elongated shadows around the dining room.
‘That was nice,’ said Jonah, seated opposite her with his elbows on the table, dipping a hunk of bread into the ceramic cooking pot.
Esmé watched with disdain.
He chomped the dipped bread like a ravenous dog.
‘What?’
‘I was just thinking; my mother is desperate for me to settle down with one of your species. I honestly can’t see it happening.’
‘Why?’
‘Now, there’s a question.’
‘Go on, shoot.’
‘Men seem to be so alien and yet, I’ve spent a lifetime watching and chasing them only to realise I’ve learnt very little in the process… does it feel that way for you guys?’
‘Nope. I know loads about women… more than they know about themselves.’
‘Get lost!’
‘Seriously… I do.’
Esmé eyed him. His stature oozed confidence simply by breathing. His golden hair flowed down his back, his clear blue eyes were steady in their gaze. His looks were dangerous when accompanied by candle light and dinner for two.
He’s bluffing. This is ego talk.
‘Tell me, then.’
‘I learnt pretty early on that the majority of women have low self-esteem so I’m always onto a winner when I ladle out the flattery… some believe me straight away – which makes things very easy. Others take a little more convincing, but over a few dates they soon come round to my way of thinking. It might take a date or two but the results are the same.’
‘The results?’
‘Sex.’
‘Jonah!’ Esmé screeched.
Jonah dipped another hunk of bread in and chomped.
‘It works every time. The older ladies are grateful for attention from any man, the young ones are flattered by my attention.’
She shook her head. She knew many intelligent, worldly wise and level headed women.
‘You can shake your head as much as you like… I know what works.’
‘No, you don’t.’
Jonah’s eyes widened.
‘Oh boy, I know.’
‘Such as?’
Jonah smiled.
‘See, you’re interested now.’
Esmé blushed. If he’d known how interested and for how many years he’d have bragged non-stop from the highest building.
‘No. I’m not.’
‘You want to know all my tricks with the ladies… sadly, I can’t tell you.’
‘Wow, that’s my life ruined!’ joked Esmé, hoping to cover her own embarrassment.
Jonah gave a wink.
‘Uhhh!’
‘If you play your cards right, you might get first-hand knowledge…’
‘Er er! No thanks. I’ve had enough of men to last me an entire lifetime. Seven years ploughed into Andrew, a no-show dinner date and…’
She paused. Should she say? All evening her knowledge of the dining incident with Melissa had felt like a winning royal flush clutched in a sweaty palm. To come clean now and play her hand felt slightly deceitful.
‘And what?’ he asked, staring at her.
‘I dined at the Italian Emporium the other week—’
‘Did you?’ he sat up and back, his hands stopped dunking bread in the sauce.
Esmé smiled.
‘OK, don’t judge me.’
‘I’m not but do you seriously think that’s the right way to live your life?’
Jonah shrugged.
‘It was good while it lasted… yeah, we got busted but, hey!’
‘Living amongst you lot is enough to put a girl off for life, do you know that?’
‘On a date, were you?’
‘No, but that’s another conversation. Don’t you feel bad for the husband?’
‘Phuh! Melissa wanted fun. Melissa got her fun.’
‘What if it’s ended their marriage, don’t you care?’
Jonah shook his head.
‘I look out for me, and me only.’
‘Oh Jonah!’
‘I do.’
Esmé was irked by his attitude.
‘Was that why you lied about the tarantula?’
‘Of course, she was mine. I wanted to keep her.’
‘But you lie and you cheat your way through life.’
‘So?’
‘One day that might happen to you… your wife might—’ her words are interrupted by his bellowed laugh.
‘Moi? Get married? Never!’
‘Why not?’
‘Because my life’s good, too good to throw away on one chick.’
‘But the single guy, shagging machine lifestyle can’t last forever, can it?’
‘Why not?’
‘Because.’
‘Because what?’
‘Jonah… one day you’ll settle down.’
‘No, I won’t.’
Esmé smiled.
Such naïvety.
‘Because that’s what we all do. That’s life. Even me, when I’ve got over Andrew and this whole disaster of a situation… I’ll move on. I’ll meet someone and in time will repeat the process and settle down.’ She paused and picked at her finger nails. ‘I can’t imagine how I’ll ever trust again given how I’ve been treated but in time, it will happen.’
‘Why would I want that?’
‘For love, family, security, children…’
‘Children? You’ve got a high opinion of me, haven’t you?’
‘You want children, right?’
‘Sod off… have you heard the noise that one kid makes when he comes for a visit? Why would anyone choose to have that twenty-four seven?’
‘Jonah!’
‘Seriously. I eat, drink, shag and sleep – what more do I need in life?’
Esmé watched as he continued to justify the ingredients of his life.
No responsibilities, no worries, no concerns.
‘I’ll never get ulcers, nor stress, nor cancer,’ he laughed. ‘Unlike the rest of you.’
‘But you’ll never find happiness either,’ she added.
‘Because after years of traipsing after one guy you’re the picture of happiness, aren’t you? And he’s repaid you by knobbing someone behind your back!’
‘I’d have you know that being loved by someone is the most beautiful thing in the world. Knowing that they care for you and you care for them, through the good times and the bad. I love being in love and being part of a couple and yes, you’re right, right now, it hurts like crazy. I’ve felt sick nearly every day since we broke up. There are days I’ve felt very alone. But… but one day, when I least expect it, the man of my dreams will arrive and I’ll take my time getting to know him, watch and learn what kind of character he has. And yeah, next time, I’ll be cautious, hold back on giving too much of myself too soon and then, after we’ve discussed everything and know each other’s hopes, dreams and opinions, inside and out, I will fall in love. Guaranteed. Because as much as Andrew has hurt me, and boy, he has definitely hurt me, Jonah. I know how to love and I know that love is the only thing that I am sure I want in my future,’ Esmé’s voice cracked and her eyes welled with tears as she spoke so candidly.
Jonah stared, dumbstruck.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, really!’
‘And he’s going to feel exactly the same and will sweep you off your tiny little feet and you’ll live happily ever after!’
‘Yep.’
‘Wrong!’
‘No!’
‘Yeah! You’ll fall in love and do all this…’ he waved his hands in a large circle above his head, ‘… all this again and again and again. Esmé, you live in a dream world… wake up and smell the coffee. Human nature hasn’t designed us to be faithful.’
‘Mine has!’
Jonah burst out laughing.
‘Faithful? Pull the other one, love. You name me the faithful one among us?’
Esmé stood up sharply, her body trembled with a passion for defending her future hopes and happy ever afters.
‘Sit down.’
‘No. How dare you claim that the likes of me and people like me should live like the likes of you!’
‘When did I say that?’
‘You’re making out that we should all live like you… well, if that’s your idea of a happy future, good luck, but I know what I want and one day, I will have it.’
‘Along with a big white wedding, two point four children and tiny white picket fence…’ laughed Jonah.
‘Hey hey, what’s with all the shouting?’ asked Asa, as he entered the dining room and saw them sparring over the dirty plates. ‘I thought a pleasant dinner party was booked for this evening.’
‘Asa, a man after my own heart…’ sang Jonah gleefully.
‘Not quite. I think I’ve got standards compared to you!’
‘Thank you, Asa,’ cooed Esmé, as she collected the dirty plates to help calm herself down.
‘Tell her, why would any man want to give up being single… tell her… we have the time of our bloody lives and yet these women, all they want to do is get us to settle down.’
Asa stared from Jonah to Esmé and back again.
‘Are you pair always this passionate over dinner?’
‘No!’ snapped Esmé, as she covered the dish of left over vegetables for Russ’s supper.
‘Tell her man, she needs to hear it from someone she’ll listen to – otherwise she’ll waste her life chasing dreams.’
Asa pulled a face before speaking.
‘What’s it to you what she thinks… if you’re doing what makes you happy, carry on. Maybe she wants something so different you can’t even imagine it.’
‘Bollocks!’
‘Is it?’
‘Yes, and you know it…’
‘Do I now?’
Jonah paused, sat back and smirked. ‘Asa, you do this every time. You talk the talk and yet when it comes to walking the walk you bail… every single time. You forget I know you of old before all this namby-pamby crap kicked in. Your job has gone to your head, mate… you were far better without all this touchy-feely business.’
‘Jonah, you’re talking out of your arse,’ replied Asa, as he turned to Esmé. ‘I came in to apologise for being late, I’ve just finished my shift but hey, it looks like dinner is over.’
‘No problem. There’s a trifle chilling in the fridge, if you want some.’
‘Look at you playing house,’ muttered Jonah.
‘I have no idea where the conversation has gone or is going, so I’ll clear the table and be done,’ said Esmé, collecting the plates as the two men stared at each other above her head.
‘Great dinner party, Esmé. We must do it again sometime, not!’ called Jonah, as she carried a pile of dirty plates from the dining room. ‘And it doesn’t make up for you having killed my tarantula.’
*
‘Are you OK?’ asked Asa, as he spooned trifle from the chilled dish.
Esmé stood at the sink washing up by hand. The bubbles made her think of her teenage life at home, washing up after a Sunday roast.
‘Me? Fine.’
‘He doesn’t get it… so don’t take it to heart.’
‘Point proven.’
Asa returned the trifle dish to the fridge and leant against the work surface to eat.
Silence descended.
‘He doesn’t get a lot of things. Doesn’t get love, or commitment. Just shagging and drama and…’
‘Life isn’t just a tick list of things, you know?’ said Asa.
‘I do know.’
‘I heard you rattle off a list like a grocery order… it shouldn’t be like that either.’
‘So now, I’m wrong?’ Esmé stopped and turned, her soapy hands suspended. ‘What’s so wrong in wanting to be married by the age of thirty? Have children at an age young enough to keep up but mature enough to nurture?’
‘No, but—’
‘It sounded like I was being criticised then.’
‘Hey, why snap at me? I’m trying to help you to understand what he’s on about. You make out life is like picking cans off a supermarket shelf, once you’ve got the full collection you’ll be happy. Tell me, how many people do you know who have everything you listed in life and yet, aren’t happy? Happiness isn’t guaranteed.’
‘OK, not everyone’s happy… but they’re married and they have children, they’re loved.’
‘Are they? I wonder how many feel trapped, used or deceived. They bought into your tick list of life just as you have and now find they wish they hadn’t been so narrow minded.’
‘Is it so wrong to want what I want?’
‘No, but don’t expect everyone to want that, or be happy with it. Jonah won’t have failed in life if he hasn’t got a wife, two kids and a Volvo estate. But view it as you do, and you’d say he could never be happy without those things. We’re all different.’
‘Are we? Shucks, that never crossed my mind,’ said Esmé, who huffed and puffed in frustration.
‘I give in… see you.’ Asa headed for the door, spooning his trifle as he walked. ‘Cheers for this.’
‘Asa?’
‘What?’ Asa turned back, holding the door open with his foot.
‘What is it blokes want then?’
‘To be happy with their lot… whatever their lot might be.’
Esmé stared at him as he ate his trifle. She took in his clean, strong and healthy, dark brooding features which were attractive from a certain angle. Together, that was the word for Asa. Whatever the rest of the world were searching for in life, Asa already had it sorted.
‘And do you know what your lot is?’
‘Yeah, and it’s not a standard shopping list.’
He let the door close after his final word.
‘Great! So, now my so-called ‘shopping list’ of life is being attacked,’ muttered Esmé, cleaning the cutlery. ‘Why do I have to be the one that starts again from scratch?’