Divorced Divas pg 4:
Alessandra begins to pace the room and I watch on, entranced by the way her svelte body moves, like liquid lava running down a mountain. Molten, smooth and fluid. Her clothes fit her body like Cling Wrap. Not a crease or a fold from neck to knee, her emerald jersey wrap-around dress hugging her slim, captivating figure as if it is making love to her.
‘You need to get out more, Olivia. Socialise,’ she exclaims, breaking my fantasy of her being humped by her own clothing.
‘With men?’ I stupidly ask.
She throws back her head and laughs, her long neck swanlike. ‘Of course with men. I know I’m encouraging you to change your outlook, Olivia, but I’m not expecting miracles. Unless…’ She eyes me and I nervously shift on my seat. ‘Kidding!’ she says and I let out an embarrassed giggle. ‘But first we need to change your appearance.’
Now, this is going too far. I believe my dear friend is bordering on the critical. As I said, I came here for support (and alcohol); I did not come here to be insulted. But Alessandra is not a woman to be dissuaded once she’s on a mission.
‘That sounds expensive,’ I squeak, grasping on to the only excuse I can muster. ‘I’m now supporting myself. Well, I’m paying for half of all costs; the mortgage, the kids, the food and the household expenses. Can’t even afford a bloody decent car… and I’m a realtor. Do you know how much of a povo I look when I pull up in my old Astra hoping to secure a listing on million dollar properties? I park around corners nowadays. Even the kids refuse to accept lifts from me.’