Page 88 of Fling

‘MAM!’ Tara said, shocked.

‘She didn’t react well when I told her that either,’ Shannon laughed. ‘Anyway, get on with your story, pet.’

‘OK, so I joined Fling, to prove I wasn’t like that Mary woman and to research the app for work. But the day I joined, I got a one hundred per cent compatibility match with a man. A man named Jack,’ Tara explained.

‘One hundred per cent – that’s certainly something,’ Shannon said, sitting back in her chair.

‘But here’s the craziest part, Mam. You know how both of us get our gut feeling?’ Tara said.

‘Of course. Your granny had it too. It’s our intuition. Like a sixth sense.’

‘Well . . . when I matched with Jack on Fling, I got my gut feeling. A full-on synchronicity. The very same feeling I got when I first met Colin in O’Malley’s,’ Tara said, knowing her mother would understand.

‘My God, this is serious. Keep going,’ Shannon said, already heavily invested in the story.

‘So I’ve been chatting to Jack for the past while but we’ve never actually met. It sounds so stupid I know, but I’ve developed feelings for him even though I don’t even know what he looks like. Because one of the rules on Fling is to not use face pictures before a meeting, it’s all anonymous.’

‘And you haven’t tried to meet him yet?’ Shannon asked.

‘I have, but I stood him up twice. And now I think I’ve lost him. He hasn’t replied to me and I don’t think he’s going to. I should be thinking about my husband and how he cheated on me, but all I can think about is Jack. It’s beyond irrational,’ Tara said.

‘Matters of the heart are never rational, pet. In a way, it’s quite beautiful that you’ve developed feelings without seeing him. Maybe it means it’s more than lust. And the synchronicity must mean something.’

‘Do you really think Jack could be my destiny?’ Tara asked.

‘I don’t have the answer, pet. But I think I know where we can find it,’ Shannon said.

After finishing their monumental breakfast, Shannon led Tara out into the back garden. Tara wasn’t sure where she was being taken and the garden looked unrecognizable from the last time she was home. They walked towards the back corner and into a little floral area, enclosed by trellises.

‘What is this, Mam?’ Tara asked.

‘It’s a little memorial garden I made for your father,’ Shannon replied.

As Tara stood looking around at the stunning greenery, she realized how much she missed her dad. She had been very close with him, particularly when her mother would be fully booked with people coming to their house for various cures. She had gone through all the stages of grief and had come to peace with his passing. But he had left a void in the world. The wake had lasted four full days, that’s how loved the man was.

‘It’s beautiful, Mam. You must miss him every day,’ Tara said.

‘Yes, but he’s not really gone, pet. Energy is never destroyed, it’s only transferred. And your father’s energy is everywhere in this garden,’ Shannon said, looking at all the flowers.

‘That’s a nice thought. I try to think like that too.’

‘He spent most of his life being my gardener. It feels nice to do the same for him. As long as this garden lives, so does he,’ Shannon said, smiling.

‘That’s beautiful,’ Tara said.

‘But now, it’s time to take a glimpse at your destiny. Step into my office,’ Shannon said. She led Tara into a gazebo-like structure built from old wicker. Plants grew throughout the hut’s walls, lending an other-worldly feel to it. There was a table in the centre and two large beanbags on each side.

‘What is this place?’ Tara asked, having never seen it before.

‘I had it built recently, pet. It’s a Yoni temple.’

‘And what is that, exactly?’ Tara asked, confused.

‘Well, the word “yonic” is the opposite of the word “phallic”. Patriarchal society is so obsessed with phallic buildings, I decided to build a yonic one, a representation of the female reproductive system, specifically the womb,’ Shannon explained.

‘Wow, back in my mother’s womb after all these years. I guess nine months wasn’t enough,’ Tara joked.

‘I actually carried you for nine and a half months. You were late for your own birth, imagine,’ Shannon teased.

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