Searching for Perfection

"We all do silly things when we're young," Amanda says. "I know I did. Kevin was one of them!"

My laugh at her quip is hearty, but when I settle, I say, "Couldn't be all bad, could it? He gave you three great kids."

She nods. "They're the silver lining, or at least that's what I tell myself. They're still pissed off at their dad, but they're generally great now they're mostly past puberty. But not always, especially through their early and mid-teens. But your kids are quite a few years away from those troublesome years, so don't forget to enjoy them while they're young."

"We try, but as you'd know, it's a juggling act. If only we didn't have to work. Maybe we'll get robots to do our jobs in future so we can spend more time with our kids."

"I'm sure we'd have those robots raising our kids while we went to work."

"Yeah, totally, and then the robots will turn our kids against us and take over the world!"

"They're already being raised by their devices," Amanda laughs, "And they'll turn on you simply because you tell them to get off their computer and come for dinner or to go out and play in the sun! Believe me, I've been there."

"Yep, but I don't think Jordan and Ebony need to wait till teen-hood to argue. Actually, that's not entirely true, because Ebby's mostly good, but she's obsessed with hockey like her mother was. She drills in the backyard for hours and won't come in until she's ready."

"Good. Better than glued to a computer. Keep them fit and active I say, if only to tire them out! Anyway, you go and enjoy your lunch and I'll see you back at the office."

We farewell one another. I think of Ebony and Jordan, and think, nah, the kids are alright. Last evening, after the traffic jam, my Uber took me home, where I grabbed our Toyota Landcruiser Prado from its almost-permanent berth in the garage, and drove to pick Ebony up from her friend Skye's house. Skye's mother generously offered Bridget to take Jordan after his swimming lesson too, if I didn't make it back home before she did, which is exactly what transpired.

Skye's parents also generously offered to feed us, her father offering a beer I found difficult to refuse, but I somehow managed and thanked them profusely, and after a quick chat and mental note to get to know them better at another time, I took my kids home. The kids protested, but not too hard after I'd reminded them we were having pizza, which we ate on the lounge chairs rather than at the dining table.

We read one of Jordan's Hot Dog books, even Ebony cuddling into my side to listen despite the fact she's so much more advanced, already having read most of the Harry Potters and was starting on Tolkein. A little pushback at bedtime, wanting to stay awake until Mummy came home, but after a little cajoling, they'd completed their bedtime routine, heading to their rooms with both saying they loved me with kisses and cuddles goodnight when I tucked them in.

It was lovely.

And as soon as I turned out their lights, I was at the pantry, deliberating over our stocks of red wines on the bottom shelf, and whiskey and rum and gin and liqueurs on the top shelf, settling on Jack Daniels in less than a second or two because I love it the most, my tastebuds already anticipating the glorious first drop, poured a double shot or perhaps a little more before sitting on the lounge with my tablet open, reading through the report and my notes for the billionth time until Bridget arrived home.

~0~

"Mate, how's it goin'?" Rob puts his phone on the table, then stands to great me in the pub's covered beer garden.

"Hey, Robbie," I reply, removing my sunnies and shaking his hand, both of us gripping hard. "Great to see you, mate, going well as could be, how 'bout you?"

"Bloody good, mate, bloody good. I have a bit of a surprise for you, but you better sit down for it."

"You're finally coming out of the closet?"

He laughs. "Like I've told you before, bend over and I'll show you how gay I am."

Rob's actually a ladies man, or at least, women love him and he loves women, where he has a reputation of breaking hearts. It wasn't always this way, because through most of High School he was an awkward pimply teen, but he was always a funny dude and by late High School his acne began to clear and he grew increasingly confident, and girls began to notice him, where seemingly overnight he was a new man. Now at forty-one, he's still a good looking rooster despite his dark hair thinning on top, and women are still known to throw themselves at him.

Loosening his tie, he gestures towards the bar and asks, "So, schooners or pints?"

"One pint," I reply. "Just one and it's my shout."

"Bullshit, it's mine. What'd'ya wanna eat? Parmi? Steak?" Then he looks at my belly. "You're clearly eating for two there."

"Fuck off, you sound like Bridge. I'm having a parmi, and I'm shoutin'"

Rob grins. "No, you fuck off, I'm shouting, and you're not gonna argue with me."

"Right oh, big insurance executive dude, I'll let you pay," I say, chuckling, taking a stool at his table. "So what's this news you have?"

"You'll find out in a moment. I'll go and get us a drink and order some grub."

I contemplate Rob's mystery news as he walks towards the bar, noting at least one attractive professionally-dressed woman in the growing lunch crowd watching him, probably undressing him with her eyes by her lingering stare.

It's funny, most of the way through high school we were mates, playing various sports such as rugby league, cricket and basketball together over the years. But we weren't overly close, like we didn't hang out socially or anything. However, things changed when we gained our driver's licences, because several of us surfers gained the ability to travel to the coast on weekends without having to beg parents or older siblings to take us. A number of us concocted a weekend adventure to the Gold Coast, where Rob was one of the group. We talked up our adventure over the following week at school, where the stories became increasingly legendary with each telling. This, I think, is where Rob's confidence began to grow and the girls began to notice him. We shared many more surfing trips, staying in touch after school, where Rob was my best man when I married Bridget and I was his best man when he married Ruby.

Yep, Rob and Ruby. They're divorced now.

So much to unpack there, where drama plagued Rob and Ruby's relationship. It was tough on Rob, and probably more so on their two boys, Joey and Jackson. But all you need to know is Rob's been through some shit with his ex, where Bridget and I gave him friendship and support.

"Hi," a woman's voice says, hesitant, snapping me from my reverie, and I turn to face her. "It's Rick, right?"

The woman standing in front of me wears a smart black formal blazer and skirt, and I note she's attractive, east Asian ancestry, shoulder-length black hair, a friendly smile, somewhere between one-sixty to one-seventy centimetres tall...my brain tells me I've seen her before, but won't divulge where.

A split second later it hits me; four months ago at Erica Bird's wedding reception, she sat at our table to the left of Bridget, directly opposite Rob, diagonally across from me. Bridget and she became quite chatty and I recall Bridget remarked to me how fun it was hanging out with the woman...what was her name again, brain, come on, give the information up, it starts with a J...

"It's Julie, isn't it?" I say, standing. "You're Erica's friend, right?"

"Close, it's Judith," she replies, smiling disarmingly, taking my offered hand. "Nice try, you have a good memory."

"I wish, I think I drank a bit too much at Erica's reception and don't remember much at all."

"You didn't seem too drunk, just happy. I remember how fun it was hanging out with you and your wife! Her name is Bridget, isn't it?"

"Sure is, you're the one with a good memory," I answer, recalling how Judith and Bridget appeared to become instant friends. "It was such a good night. So much dancing, it was awesome."

Judith laughs, but is shaking her head. "You and Robbie joining all the other guys in dropping your trousers to Eagle Rock is not what I call dancing."

I'm chuckling, because we did drop our trousers on the dance floor to Eagle Rock. After all, it's a bloody wedding reception tradition! Hang on, she said Robbie. Two and two becoming four. Or one and one becoming two. Something like that, but my brain's making more connections here, so I throw it out there and ask, "You're here to meet Robbie, aren't you?"

"I am, hasn't he told you?"

"He hinted at a surprise but refused to tell until he ordered lunch. Should be back any moment." I gesture towards the nearest stool. "Take a seat, I reckon."

"Thanks," she says, smiling and sitting.

"So, I can't remember, are you one of Erica and Theo's boisterous swing dancing buddies?"

"Ah, no, not me. Erica and I were house mates for a year. I couldn't dance to save my life, but she always asked me to join them. She and Theo are amazing!"

"They are. Bridge and I couldn't keep up, but we've done a little salsa in the past and a few other things. But, yeah, Erica and Theo are swing dancing obsessed and used to ask us to come along to their lessons back when they started."

For your information, Erica is another old friend from school who was in my group of friends most way through, and she actually dated Rob for a while. Somehow he didn't break her heart when they broke up, and she's another of the few people from school I've regularly stayed in touch with through life, even if regularly in touch is probably more like catching up in person only one or two times a year, and maybe sending happy birthday and Christmas messages.

"It's true, right!" Judith replies to my observation about our mutual friends. "She was so depressed about dancing closing through Covid times, but I think she and Theo's relationship made it through Covid lock-down by practicing dancing in their unit all day."

"I saw all the videos she put on Facebook," I laugh.

"Those two are so good at it but I didn't even have the guts to try. Anyway, I didn't have anyone to dance with at her wedding."

"Not Rob?"

"He didn't even ask me!"

"Bastard."

We both laugh and hear, "Awww, look at you two getting on like a house on fire." We turn and Rob walk's towards us, expertly carrying two pint glasses of a wheaty coloured beer plus a glass of white wine and the stainless steel table number holder, making us table ten. Judith smiles and Rob winks at her, and I stand, offering to take some of the load, but he says, "Sit your bum back down, mate, I've got this."

He grins at me, placing drinks and order number on the table, first handing the wine to Judith. "There you go, Princess."

Princess! Wow, Rob, this is serious! I almost laugh, because I've never heard him speak like this to a woman, not even Ruby when they were in love.

"Thank you," Judith says in a sweet voice, smiling at her...prince. Or court jester, maybe. Her new man...hmm, I'm making assumptions here, aren't I? Um, nope, because next moment he bends to her and they share a lingering passionate kiss, right in front of me. Totally not awkward in the slightest. That's sarcasm, by the way, where for a moment it's really fucking awkward, I don't know where to look. Oh my God, now I can see their tongues touch for Christ's sake!

"Hu-hum," I cough, clearing my throat with great exaggeration, gesturing to both of them. "So all this happened the night of Erica's wedding?"

They've stopped kissing, Judith shaking her head. "He didn't even ask for my number!"

"Slack arse," I say with a laugh.

"Hey, I'd had a few, right," Rob says with a grin, sitting and sliding my pint across the table. "I didn't want to start off on the wrong foot."

"Wrong foot," Judith snorts, "That's my excuse for not dancing!"

"At least I got to have breakfast with you, Princess." Rob's grin is cheeky and Judith screws her face up a tad, perhaps in displeasure.

She looks to me, saying, "It's not as sleazy as Rob's insinuating, by the way. We were staying in the same hotel and we ran into one another at reception when checking out the next day. Neither of us were in any shape to drive home so he suggested we get brunch."

Chuckling, I say, "I think Bridge and I wandered around for about for twenty minutes with hangovers before we found somewhere open with decent coffee and food."

"I'd have felt so hangry after five minutes," Judith laughs, "I might have attacked Rob if he hadn't already scoped out a nice little café."

"Ah, see, Princess," Rob says with a grin, "Rick here has the most patient wife in the whole world, because though he doesn't do the ground work beforehand to identify the cafés with the best coffee to take her when she's likely to wake with a raging hangover, she's sticks with him."

I know for a fact Ruby once tore Rob a new one because of something wrong with the restaurant he chose one date night, for some reason he couldn't even remember. And I know he took it to heart, because afterwards he formed a habit to ensure he knew all the good eateries before going anywhere, checking their star rating on Google reviews and elsewhere. But I'm sure Judith's quip about getting hangry was a jest. I hope.

"Anyway," I say, raising my glass, "Cheers to you two, for finding one another at a time of great need when you were hung over."

They laugh, we clink glasses, raise them to our lips, frothy head, bubbles on my nose, the slight bitterness on my tongue as the liquid gold slides easily down my throat.

Ahhhhhhhh, lovely...

Judith places her wine glass down and turns to me. "I haven't asked yet, how is Bridget? I enjoyed her company so much at Erica's wedding."

"She's great," I say, recalling the night four months ago when Bridget and I walked back to our hotel, somewhere between tipsy and drunk, her hand in mine, laughing and talking about the fun wedding reception, and Bridget telling me how fun the woman sitting next to her was. "Actually, after the wedding, Bridge remarked how much she enjoyed your company too. We should have you around for dinner."

"What a wonderful idea." Then she grins. "Can I bring Rob?"

Giving Rob a sly look, I say, "Make him shower first, then we'll discuss it."

"Ha!" Rob remarks, "Listen to you, Stinky Ricky. He got this name in the locker rooms at football."

"Fuck off, Slab," I chuckle, "No one's ever called me Stinky."

"Not to his face," Rob whispers to Judith.

"Slab?" Judith asks, looking confused.

Rob's grinning, because of course he is, and I laugh. "This is none of my business, but I'm assuming by the way you two kissed not more than half a metre from my face that you've, ah, shared intimate relations?"

Judith's frowning in further confusion, perhaps a tad embarrassment, slowly saying, "Um, yeah..."

Folding his arms, Rob sits there looking bemused, probably proud of himself, and I'm not sure if I should proceed, given Judith's confusion and embarrassment, but I do, because...blokes. "I suppose it's not news to you Rob here packs a hefty slab of meat?"

It hits her, not Rob's meat mind you, but she's understood, eyes wide now, and she slowly nods. "Ohhh, yes, you boys are terrible. I thought it was going to be something about drinking a slab of beer."

"Heh, heh, heh," Rob chuckles with some exaggeration, nodding once. "Done that too."

After downing another mouthful of my beer, I ask, "So you're a lawyer, if I recall rightly? Like, I can tell you have class, so what are you doing with this filthy animal?"

Judith's grinning now. "Again you have an excellent memory, because I am a solicitor. And I'd like to think I'm classy, but, I'm also partial to a nice slab of meat."

We all make eye contact for a split second before bursting in to laughter, which softens to a chuckle, Rob shaking his head, saying, "See what I have to put up with?"

"Rick or me," Judith says.

"Both."

It's like we're in school again. I tell you what, I like Judith and hope she and Rob stick together, because I could see we'd have some fun times hanging out. I can't help but smile and say, "In all seriousness, I'll have you over for dinner. Bridge will be excited to meet you again, I'm sure."

Judith smiles too. "I'm excited about the prospect of catching up with your wonderful other half."

"Bridget's more like Rick's nine-tenths," Rob chuckles.

"Meh, I'll agree with you there," I say with a smile, taking another swig of my beer, noting it's less than half full now. I pat my belly and whisper, "Yeah, this hits the spot."

"Shouldn't drink while pregnant, mate."

"God damn, give me a break!" But our laughter is jovial, happy, and I down the last of my pint and point to their glasses. "Speaking of drinking, want another?"

I wasn't going to, but, well, it's my shout, my turn to buy a round that is.

"Why not," Rob says, draining his. "Jude?"

"Um, I won't keep up with you two. You know I'm a light weight."

Nodding to her glass, I ask, "How about a lemon, lime and bitters?"

"Sure, sounds great, thanks."

I fetch two pints of Great Northern and a glass of lemon, lime and bitters, and our meals arrive while I'm at it, and we get stuck in, my chicken parmigiana, known as a parmi, or sometimes a parma by bloody weirdos, was huge and delicious. Classic Aussie pub grub.

"Did you know," Rob says to Judith, "It was Ricky and Bridge who gave me the fifteen-year old single malt Glenfiddich for my fortieth last year? The one I showed you? Fifteen years, sitting in a barrel, waiting in the highlands of Scotland somewhere, to be drunk by some heathen like myself."

"I bet it was expensive," she says, raising her eyebrows.

"Cost a bit," I say with a nod.

"I haven't opened it," he tells me, "Not because I don't want to. But it feels like sacrilege to drink it."

"You need a special occasion," Judith offers.

"Fifteen years," he says again, almost as if it's a magical number. "It must be a fine Scotch. Aged well. Like Rick and Bridge, they've been together fifteen years. You won't find a tighter unit."

"Jesus, mate," I say, noting the serious look in Rob's eye, feeling his matey affection after all our matey jesting. "Thanks, you're making me feel a bit emotional."

"Fifteen years." He looks to Judith. "See, Jude, many a bloke would've said something stupid like, you get less time for murder, but not Ricky. He loves and supports his wife like no other man I know."

"Awww," Judith coos, "It's nice to hear about a husband supporting his wife for a change. At least half of my partnered friend's conversations are about the lack of support they feel from their partners. And Robbie, it's cute you're showing your emotions, maybe there is more to you than your slab?"

"I'm not emotional, you are," Rob returns her grin. He faces me again and says, "Nah, Ricky and Bridge have always been there for me, through thick and through thin, so, yeah, I'm sorry I don't catch up with you as often as I should, mate."

I shake my head, a tad embarrassed at my mate's sentimentality. "Like I said, we'll have you and Judith over for dinner. Or maybe we can get Mum to mind the kids and the four of us can go out on the town one night."

"Cheers to that!" We clink glasses again, drinking more, Judith on the lemon, lime and bitters by now. She looks to me and asks, "Am I right in remembering Bridget's a physiotherapist?"

"Ah, yeah, a sports physio. She's working at the university with some sports scientist types, but to be honest, I think she spends more time chasing grants for them rather than doing physio work."

"Argh," Judith sighs, "So typical. I did some law work with my old faculty a few years back and I think I spent most of my time writing grants."