Breaking Up Pt. 01

"But you had issues with his tendency to leave the housework up to you though."

"Yeah, but that had been the case from the start, he did help at first but then he got distracted as he usually does. He's got the mental stamina of a goldfish and they were his mother's words."

"But needless to say," Julie dumped the bags on the bench, "she began to spend more time doing the housework when you and Nick went to Europe for three weeks. Wasn't that where he proposed to you?" Julie glanced at her.

"Yeah," Ilona sank down on a stool and stared out the back window as Max scratched at the back door, "he proposed to me on the Rialto bridge in Venice," she glanced at Max through the glass door.

"It was my idea to go, but I'd held off because I couldn't afford to pay for his airfare too," she slid off the stool and walked to the back door.

"His father paid for his airfare, and threw in money for the accommodation," she unlocked the door, "we had a discussion about that though, because I just wanted to stay in hostels but he was insistent that no child of his would stay in such places."

"And after that? When you got home?"

"She was over the fucking moon," she greeted Max as he bounded inside, "her whole outlook towards me changed, it was like night and day. I was suddenly the daughter she'd never had, and I was just relieved that some of the tension had been lifted."

She returned to her stool as Max greeted Julie.

"So, you're saying that she used this as an excuse to what? Take back her role as matriarch?"

"That sounds like the case," Julie nodded, "it's a role she's had for years, and now that a new woman is on the scene she's having to step back and try to find a way back in, especially with the wedding preparations," she joined her at the bench to take more things out of the bag.

"And the rest," Ilona glanced at her phone, "speak of the devil."

Julie glanced down at the name on the screen and frowned at the jumbled letters. SWMNBN, but Ilona was already answering the phone in her usual cheery manner.

"Hi, Elizabeth, how are you?" Ilona smiled tightly.

"I'm fine, I'm at a girlfriend's place... we're waiting for my brother to turn up and look at her car," she moved off the stool and walked to the back door.

"I'll be home in an hour or so... no... I've got something already prepared... Nick's gone to his mate's joint to work out so he won't be home until eight at least," she pinched her nose.

"No, really, it's fine. It's not much but I'm going to reheat the leftovers and boil pasta... okay... okay, sure no worries... bye," she ended the call and stared at Julie who had just emptied the bags onto the bench.

"See what I mean? I can't even plan a meal without her sticking her beak in."

"So I heard," she smiled crookedly, "what does the acronym mean?"

"She who must not be named," she tapped her phone, "I'll give Darren a phone and find out how far away he is."

SWMNBN. She who must not be named.

It was a stark reminder of just how deep was the divide between bride to be and her future mother in law. It was the kind of thing a man might say about his mother in law, but only after the marriage had run aground on the rocks. Up until then she hadn't even been told her name and when she'd asked if Nick had ever seen the name on her phone her eyes narrowed.

"He wouldn't touch my phone if his life depended on it, but I even take it into the toilet and the bathroom with me, but it's not like he couldn't just guess anyway, I've used that name behind his mother's back more than once."

"And what does he think of your mother?" Julie had asked her teasingly.

"He hasn't said a bad word about her while I've been in hearing range," she replied, "but as to what he says about her when I'm not around I don't know but mum is my rock. Even if I cancelled the whole thing and just moved out I know she'd have my old room ready in case I needed a place to stay while I sorted something out."

The relationship between Ilona and her mother was similar to that between Julie and her mother, both women were highly motivated, maternal and yet could stand their ground in the workforce and on the home front.

The phone beeped to signal an incoming message but just as she picked it up, it beeped again for a second message. She read the first one.

Mum: On my way, just leaving the hot bread kitchen in Croydon, is my dress ready to wear?

Julie: Sure, hanging waiting for you.

She propped against the windowsill to read the one from Ilona. It was a picture message, Ilona was sitting at her desk at work wearing the blouse Julie had finished for her last night.

Ilona: First catwalk was a success! Four customers coming your way. :-) Can I drop by on the way home from work? I have to meet Darren there, he's doing your car today.

Julie: Great! Have finished the second blouse by the way. You can stay for lunch if you can put up with mum.

Ilona: Great! Love to!

She put the phone in her back pocket and stepped out of the room to go to the toilet before her mother arrived. The thought of Ilona meeting her mother for the first time brought a wry smile to her face as she dropped her jeans and panties, but just as she was sitting down the phone rang and she stared at the name on the screen.

"Ilona," she frowned, "what's up?"

"I'm still in the carpark near work," she replied, "where are you? You sound like you're in a bloody tunnel."

"I'm on the toilet," she chuckled.

"Oh, sorry," Ilona replied.

"It's fine, but I'm not turning on the camera."

Ilona fell silent for a few seconds.

"Um, can I ask you a big favour?"

"Sure," Julie held her flow back.

"Can I crash the night, upstairs? If I'm imposing or being too forward just say so."

"Of course," Julie frowned, "you haven't fallen out with Nick have you?"

Ilona didn't reply for a few seconds.

"Not really, we fought this morning because he's fucking off to Brisbane with his old man for a few days and he expects me to be there for she who must not be named. She wants to plan the reception menu and I really can't be fucked this weekend."

"Sure," Julie grimaced, "stay a couple of days, it's not a problem. You can chill out and watch the idiot box or take Max for a walk."

"Thank you," Ilona exhaled, "I'll talk soon."

It was only after Ilona had hung up that she finally let go with a sigh.

Julie stared at her pants around her ankles as she put the phone on the floor and a moment later she chuckled.

Oh the irony.

The text came through when she was just stepping out of the toilet.

Ilona: Thank you so much for agreeing to this. Things have come to a crisis point and I really need a place to just sit and think. Will tell you all about it afterwards.

Love. X

Julie stepped into the bathroom a few moments later as she tried to process this information. Ilona hadn't mentioned anything about a crisis point, until now. She stared at herself in the mirror as she put the phone down.

"Keep your head while those about are losing theirs."

The Rudyard Kipling poem had hung in her mother's bedroom for years, in fact it had been there for so long she'd replaced the original with a printed out version she'd downloaded. It was her mother's personal mantra, her article of faith.

I must print a copy for myself, she turned on the tap.

And maybe give a copy to Ilona.

***

At fifty years of age, Patricia O'Shannesey should have been starting to slow down now that she was at the peak of her career as a lawyer and with two grown up daughters, but Julie's mother had never been conventional. Born in the western suburbs in 1970, she was a true product of the '70s and had the pictures to prove it. The youngest in a family of six children, she'd experienced her fair share of domestic violence by the time she lit out for Perth at the age of seventeen determined to escape the alcoholic abuse of her father and mother. Alas, she'd fallen in with an up and coming nominee for an outlaw bikie club based in Perth and was soon pregnant. Four years later Julie was born and a casual outsider would have been corrected in assuming that the sins of the parents had been visited on Patricia.

But Patricia was made of sterner stuff and when her boyfriend broke her ribs and two fingers in a violent bashing at a club party she snapped and taking her two daughters, hopped on the first train back to Melbourne and moved in with her sister now living in the eastern suburbs. Three months later an appearance in court to answer a charge of assault led to her first decent job, as an office temp for her lawyer. Barry had never been her lover, but he'd been the father figure she'd never had and Patricia responded positively to his attempts to tidy her up. Barry understood violence, he was a Vietnam veteran himself and her laughable attempts to seduce the boss merely amused him, and before too long she began to change.

Some years ago, Patricia had been given the honour of saying a few words over his coffin and her words had been repeated often by his family.

"Your husband, father, and grandfather was my mentor, my friend, and the father I should have had. I would not be here today if not for his patience and kindness."

Her mother looked almost radiant as she closed the door of her Ford coupé. She wore a pale blue, short-sleeved shirt that was tucked into white, three-quarter length cargo pants. Her mother only ever wore a short-sleeved top when she wasn't at work, to hide the obvious legacies of her misspent youth, the tattoos on her upper arms and forearms. In this day and age tattoos on women sent out a different message, but in courtrooms and offices she stuck to conservative attire. Julie gave her mother a quick embrace and a kiss before stepping back to let her inside. Her mother ran a hand through her shoulder length auburn hair and stepped inside.

"The traffic was murder," she sighed, "I could only find cheese and bacon rolls though."

"That's cool, I've got cheese and salad in the fridge, you want a cold one now?"

"Not yet," she stepped into the sewing room, "sorry, I haven't been around these last few weeks, I had a mountain of work to plough through when I got back from Hawaii," she went to put her bags on the cutting table and then frowned when she saw the material on it.

"Just shove that aside, mum," Julie stepped inside, "I've just started cutting."

Patricia moved the material up a little and put her bags down.

"Here, this is for you," she pulled out a brown, silk blouse out of a bag, "I know you can make better but I couldn't resist it," she held up for her.

"Hey. Thanks, really," she took it from her and held it against herself, the bodice was a dark tan but the sleeves were a lighter tan, "this looks really nice, I'll um try it on later," she glanced in the other bag, "did you buy out the whole shop?"

"Twelve for the price of six, gotta be in it to win it," she grinned.

"Ilona said the same thing the other day," she murmured.

"Who's Ilona?" Patricia fluffed out her hair.

"My friend," she smiled.

"Ilona," her mother regarded her for a moment, "and she's a friend?"

"Yeah," she ran a hand through her hair.

"Okay," her mother studied her, "sounds like she must be quite a friend."

"Huh?" Julie stared at her, "Jesus, mum, just because I'm smiling it doesn't mean I'm in love."

"You have a tell," Patricia smiled tightly, "whenever you try to hide something you always do something to your hair."

"Okay," she winced, "she is hot, but you came here for your dress not to ask about my latest crush," she stepped over to the wardrobe."

"What do you think?" Julie opened the wardrobe.

Patricia stared at the cream-coloured dress. It had a buttoned bodice and an elastic waistband. The buttons however were hidden beneath the ruffles that descended from the mandarin collar to the waistband.

"Oh, my," she took it out, "you've outdone yourself this time, sweetie."

"You want to try it on here or my bedroom?"

"Here is as good a place as any," she laid the garment on the table.

"So, tell me more about Ilona," Patricia told her as Julie closed the curtains.

"She works alongside me," she turned as her mother started undoing her shirt, "literally, her desk is opposite mine."

"Ooh, I love a bit of office romance," she grinned, "is she?"

"Ilona is twenty four years old, with looks that could stop traffic, highly intelligent and engaged to be married in three months, to a man."

"You were going so well until that last bit," her mother rolled her eyes as she pulled the shirt out of her pants, "although I was straight when I had my dirty weekend with Harriet, so there is still hope," she took off her shirt.

Julie managed a tired smile at the mention of her mother's affair with a woman she'd never laid eyes on because she'd only been a child at the time. Her mother's sexual liaisons had always been conducted away from home, it was only since her daughters had moved out that she'd modified the 'never wake up in someone else's bed' rule.

"Maybe, but maybe not," she eyed the blouse on the mannequin, "although I've made two blouses for her this week already and the third is on the cutting table."

"Oh, I didn't see that one," she glanced to her right as she undid her pants, "very retro, I haven't seen one of these for years, I used to own one when I was younger although mine was made of thicker material for obvious reasons," she dropped the cargo pants.

"I made two, different collars and colours, the third is a pussybow blouse."

"Well, if nothing she'll make you some money," she undid the bodice buttons.

Julie didn't reply as she watched her mother slip the dress over her head and it was only when she started fastening the buttons that she spoke.

"We did a deal on the clothes," Julie dug her hands into her front pockets, "her brother is fixing my car and I'm giving her the clothes, three blouses in total. She even handed over the money to her brother when he came over on Wednesday night after work to give me a quote, so it's all over bar the shouting," she smirked.

"Huh?" Patricia picked up the cargo pants to put them on the table.

Julie ran a hand through her hair as her mother turned around, "not even I get that deal, not that I've ever asked, she must have touched a soft spot."

"It might be the other way around," Julie eyed the cut outs on the table, "if I forego my labour costs then she's the one with the soft spot because I didn't pay a hundred bucks for the material."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"She was with me when I bought the material," she replied.

"I'm intrigued," she pulled the dress out, "tell me more."

Julie did her best to summarise the tale so far, including the recent phone call, and it was while her mother was surveying herself in the wardrobe mirror that she gave her opinion.

"From what you've told me it sounds like she's backed herself into a fucking corner and is looking for a lifeline," she fluffed out her hair.

"So, what does that mean?"

"It's not over until she says I do, she can still say I won't," she turned side on, "and even if she says I do, she might still say it's over at any time in the future," she turned to face her.

"Well?"

"You look beautiful, mum," she smiled.

"I know," she returned the smile.

"But the chances of her saying I won't between now and the wedding are pretty slim."

"If I had a dollar for every time someone said that to me before a courtroom appearance I could bloody well retire now. State your case, clearly, lay out your boundaries and then wait for her response, nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"What about the rebound syndrome?"

"What about it?" Patricia raised an eyebrow, "sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, the point is she appears to have adopted you as a best friend slash counsellor. I know it's a fucking cliché, but be yourself and let the chips fall where they may."

Julie was about to reply when she heard another car in the drive and when she cracked the curtain she saw Ilona's car pulling up behind her mother's.

"She's here, Ilona."

"Oh," her mother eyed the handbag, "well, I'll change out of this and pay you, and leave you two in peace."

"No, don't," Julie let the curtain fall back, "keep the dress on, for now at least and meet me in the kitchen, we'll have a spot of lunch and you can come to your own conclusions."

Ilona's eyes widened as soon as she saw Julie's mother in the hallway some three minutes later, she was carrying a plastic shopping bag as well as her handbag.

"Ilona, this is my mother, Patricia."

"Pleased to meet you," she stepped forward.

"Tricia," her mother took her hand and studied her with a crooked smile, "I see we're both wearing my daughter's creations, I love that blouse."

"Thank you," she looked down at it and then at Julie, "you kept that one a secret."

"It was only half done the last time you were in the sewing room."

"Gorgeous," Ilona stepped back to study it, "I want one, in white."

"I'll send you broke at this rate," Julie winked, "what about your wedding?"

"Oh that," she shrugged and held up the bag, "I bought a chew toy for Max and a toy for Celine, and some cakes for lunch, Darren is fifteen minutes away. Where do you want him to park, in the street or the drive?"

"I'll move my car," Tricia nodded.

"Not before I move mine," she set her things down and with a wide smile, descended the steps and walked briskly back to her car.

Mother and daughter stood in the doorway and when she was out of earshot, Tricia turned and smiled, "I still can't hear it yet."

"What can't you hear?"

"A fat lady singing," and with that she turned around and slapped her on the buttocks.

"Take the food into the kitchen and we'll start on lunch, remember to keep your doors open."

***

The open door. It had been her mother's policy for years, Julie's earliest memories were of a house filled with people coming and going. Some were real aunts and uncles but apart from one sister, her mother rarely saw her other siblings and two of her brothers had spent years in jail, one had only been recently released from prison after a twenty five year sentence for murder.

Patricia however had started her own extended family consisting of co-workers, neighbours, and friends, she'd always been an outgoing woman with an engaging personality and despite her past she had a heart of gold. People were drawn to her almost naturally, the women because she was so different to their other girlfriends and the men for other reasons. She and her older sister, Shannon had known their mothers friends as aunties and uncles, although in the case of the latter she had a clear distinction between platonic friendships and intimate partners.

She never brought her 'special friends' home to meet her daughters, her sexual liaisons were always conducted elsewhere, subject to babysitter availability and she had a strict caveat for every partner. No matter how late or how tired she was, she always returned home for her girls when they awoke in the morning, she had no intention of ever introducing a stepfather or stepmother into the family unit and Patricia was quite open about her bisexuality.

"Mum was in an abusive marriage," Julie informed Ilona as they mounted the staircase an hour or so later, "I was only two and a half when the police took him from the house but Shannon can remember the violence quite vividly, she was six at the time.

"I'm sorry," Ilona glanced at her as they reached the second floor, "although she doesn't strike me as being a woman who'd let that happen."

"My mum was an ex Thomastown chick who moved in with an outlaw bikie in Perth," she led her into the bigger bedroom at the front, "she could give as good as she got but my dad was so much bigger than her, it wasn't a fight between equals," she moved to the window.