Page 37 of Thursdays at Orange Blossom House
‘There have been a few …’ This time Dorothy’s inhalation is ragged and she knows she can’t say the word.
She’s relieved when Ruth nods, knows she doesn’t have to say more.
‘That’s tough,’ Ruth murmurs. ‘I’m sorry you had to go through that.’
‘Me too.’ Dorothy smiles, even though she doesn’t know why. Is she trying to make herself feel better? Trying to signal to Ruth that she shouldn’t feel bad for her? It’s a reflex and Dorothy wishes she didn’t do it. Wishes she wasn’t always smiling through her pain like it doesn’t matter.
‘But I have a plan. I think,’ she continues. ‘There’s a clinic in Brisbane. For in-vitro fertilisation. Have you heard of it?’
‘Test-tube babies?’
‘Yes.’
They’re both silent as they take sips of their beverages.
‘That’s a long way to go,’ Ruth says. ‘How long do you have to stay?’
‘I don’t know yet. I haven’t told my doctor that I want to do it.’
‘What about Frederick? Does he go too?’
‘He’s still not convinced it’s the right thing,’ Dorothy says, remembering their latest ‘discussion’ that had bordered on an argument.
Frederick had reiterated his concerns that the process would be too hard on her body. Yet it was also the first time he’d said, ‘I think it is our best shot.’
Dorothy sighs. ‘And it’s tough, because we … This place. I’m not sure how to manage the time away. Frederick probably wouldn’t be away for that long, but I might be.’
Ruth looks down into her coffee, then up at Dorothy, a slight smile on her face. ‘Well, I told you Sandy wants me to go back to work.’ She raises her eyebrows.
It takes Dorothy a few seconds to realise what she means, and she lets her hopes rise – then fall.
‘I don’t think we could afford to pay you much,’ she says.
Ruth presses her lips together and glances to the side, like she’s thinking. ‘Could you pay me in meals? As in, meals I can take home for Sandy and the kids?’
Right then, Dorothy lets herself hope. It’s dangerous, but she can’t help it.
‘Yes,’ she says, ‘I think we could.’
‘Honestly, that would probably be better than a wage. At least the taxman can’t take meals!’ Ruth laughs, her eyes wide, like she’s discovered something wonderful.
‘Would you really like to work here?’ Dorothy asks.
‘The reason I don’t love Sandy telling me to go back to work,’ Ruth says, ‘is because for him it’s about the money. I think the hours would be okay, though. Mum can watch the kids, and I’d be home after lunch, wouldn’t I?’
Dorothy nods.
‘And it’s not forever, right? It’s just while you’re away.’
Another nod. Although Dorothy wonders if Ruth could be available if she does end up having a baby … No, that’s too far ahead. She can’t let herself think it or she’ll jinx herself. Again.
‘Then I reckon we have a plan,’ Ruth says.
They sit there grinning at each other, two old friends who have seen those grins change through lost teeth and badly applied lipliner, and Dorothy thinks this is the best day she’s had in a long time.
‘Thank you,’ she says, and the words don’t sound enough for what she feels.
‘Don’t thank me yet,’ Ruth says with a snort. ‘I may be hopeless. But it’s the least I can do. You’ve helped me out of a jam so many times. You’re a good friend to me. I hope I can be to you too.’
