Roadside Sisters Read Online Free Page B

the back of beyond! They’ll kick their Shar-Pei puppies in sheer frustration all the way down High Street. And, truly, who could blame them?’
    Nina glanced out her kitchen window to next-door’s lemon tree, as if she needed reassurance that she was actually on the same planet as Meredith. ‘Really?’ she marvelled. ‘There are women who actually change their cushions according to the seasons?’
    ‘Oh, don’t be daft, Nina, of course there are!’
    Nina walked to her lounge room and surveyed the ten-dollar cushions she’d bought years ago from Home Depot. Dark brown corduroy, so they didn’t show stains. There were only two seasons in Nina’s home. Football and cricket.
    ‘Meredith, you promised!’ Nina tried not to sound too needy. She knew that wouldn’t cut it with Meredith any more than it had with Annie.
    ‘I don’t remember promising anything!’ Meredith was indignant. ‘I did say it sounded like it could be fun, but—’
    ‘And it will—it will be heaps of fun. Please come. I promise you’ll have a great time! You’ll kick yourself if you miss out!’ This was Nina at her upbeat, pleasing best.
    Meredith, however, was scarcely listening. ‘That tablecloth is genuine Irish linen. Quite hard to find these days, but you really shouldn’t settle for anything less if it’s for a christeningluncheon . . . Those sheets? Egyptian cotton. Feel them. Superb quality.’
    Nina thought of the boys’ favourite flannelette sheets covered in a million tiny pills. She spoke up over the clatter of a herd of high heels on the polished floorboards of Meredith’s store. ‘Annie’s coming over on Saturday to check out the van. She’s really looking forward to the trip. She’s so excited.’ Another white lie. All in the good cause of Nina’s sanity. ‘She really needs a break. And so do you. Why don’t you come over as well?’
    ‘Look, I have to go. There’s a veritable traffic jam here in napery. Alright, I’ll come over on Saturday around lunchtime. But I’m not promising—’
    ‘I know. You’re not promising anything.’
    ‘Exactly.’
    ‘Great! See you then.’
    Nina immediately put plans into action for her Saturday summit. She was confident she could persuade both Annie and Meredith to come. She was good at this sort of thing. She should have been a member of some kind of delegation to draw up a road map thingy for peace in Iraq.

    It was almost midnight when Nina wrestled another container of bolognaise sauce into her freezer. It was a refrigerated shipping container of motherly concern. She wiped wet hands on her T-shirt, dragged damp blonde hair into an elastic and surveyed her handiwork. There were six days worth of meals in there now, all labelled and colour-coded. Blue for weekday dinners,yellow for weekends and green for lunches. Pasta sauces, casseroles, stews, meatloaf—all microwaveable.
    She planned to write a list of what could be cooked to accompany what—mashed potatoes, rice, vegetables—and stick it on the fridge door under a ‘Batman at Movie World’ magnet. She knew the boys wouldn’t bother to read it. They would scoop the food straight from the freezer/microwave/dishwasher-safe containers onto toasted Tip Top muffins or white no-fibre bread.
    Nina tried to imagine how her sons would cope while she was gone and could only see unwashed hair, unfinished homework and unmade beds. She hoped to somehow get them through it snack by snack, meal by meal. Perhaps every time they peeled back a blue, yellow or green plastic lid, they would remember her. Nina had also stocked up on assorted biscuits, snack bars, chips, powdered sports drinks and instant pot noodles. There were enough instant pot noodles in her pantry to circle the earth, Nina estimated. Enough pot noodles to tie her up from top to toe—around and around, until they suffocated the life out of her.
    All that afternoon, as she cooked, cooled and measured the food into containers, Nina had been wondering how