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247 pages, Paperback
First published February 1, 2012
Next it's my turn to read aloud. "I don't think I've done it right. Maybe someone else should read theirs."
"Now, Loretta," Ruth says, shaking her head. "In this class, we don't judge each other. We're learning together."
I shrug my shoulders and pick up my piece of paper. I take a deep breath. Reading out my work makes me feel like I'm in primary school.
"OK," I say and I look around at the four nodding faces of the teacher and my classmates. "OK, I wrote a few things. The List of Pleasing Things. Wednesday night comedy on the TV. A Kmart undies sale. The smell of the Scouts' sausage sizzle outside the supermarket on a Saturday. Reading my daughter's diary and not finding anything horrible about me. The jingle of spurs."
Ruth wipes her forehead with her hand. It's warm in here, all right, but not that hot.
"That's lovely, Loretta," she says. "Now, who's next?"
Everyone who hasn't read yet shoots their hand in the air. I remember this moment from school. It's when someone gives a dumb answer to the teacher's question and the others all realize immediately that they can do better. My career as a writer is over in thirty minutes. The other class members read out their lists and not one of them has anything as ordinary as Kmart in it. Roses, moonlight, the smell of mangoes, the swish of silk against your skin. Is this why my life turned out the way it did? Perhaps I should work on developing refined taste and lofty thoughts. [p.91]
When I get to the school gate, the kids are both standing with their hands on their hips. I wonder if they got that from me; old scrag standing with her hands on her hips, pursing her thin lips, squinting into the sun. You could make a statue of that. It would look like half the women in this town. Dust and a few plastic bags swirling around its feet, the taillights of the husband’s car receding into the distance. They should cast it in bronze and put it in the foyer of Social Security.Idly, Loretta dreams of of rescue.
As I steer the great car down the highway toward home I have a little dream. I’ll pull into the driveway and sitting next to the veranda will be a shiny maroon Harley-Davidson. I won’t dare to look, but out of the corner of my eye I’ll see a boot resting on the step, maybe with spurs on it. Then I’ll slowly lift my head, and he’ll be staring at me the way George Clooney stared into J.Lo’s eyes in Out of Sight and I’ll take a deep breath and say to him, “Can you hang on for five minutes while I drop the kids at the orphanage?But she actually loves her kids and knows that she has to rescue herself. Warm-hearted, feisty, stubborn and funny, Loretta and her friends will reward the reader who decides to spend a few hours with them.