Free Three Wishes by Liane Moriarty Page A

fun! We could all contribute something. I will contribute my potential new boyfriend, Charlie. He is delicious.
    With much love, Gemma
    To:       Gemma
cc: Maxine; Cat
From:   Lyn
    Very funny G. But a good idea. I will have a seafood lunch for Christmas at my place. Better for Maddie anyway. Everybody can bring something. We’ll give you Christmas off this year, Mum. I shall e-mail more details. O.K. with you, Cat?
    To:       Maxine; Gemma; Lyn
From:   Cat
Re: Christmas
    Fine with me.
    To:       Gemma; Lyn; Cat
From:   Maxine
    If you would all feel more comfortable at Lyn’s place then I won’t raise any objections. I do apologize that past Christmases have obviously been so unpleasant for you all. I shall bring a turkey and roast potatoes, Lyn. Otherwise there are sure to be complaints. Gemma, Lyn has a lot on her plate! She certainly won’t be serving you drinks on Christmas Day. Everybody will have to roll up their sleeves and pitch in! As for bringing a new boyfriend, who we’ve never met, please don’t be ridiculous.
    To:       Maxine
From:   Gemma
Subject: Christmas Day
    You’re a classic, Mum.
    Love, Gemma
    “You look very nice,” said Dan.
    They were crossing the Harbour Bridge in the back of a cab, an hour late for Dan’s Christmas party in the city. “Thanks.” Catsmoothed down her skirt and scraped at her lipstick with her fingernail.
    It was her fault they were late. Over the last few days her body had become a leaden weight that needed to be dragged around from place to place. It was a tremendous effort to do anything at all.
    Dan had sat silently on the end of their bed while she paused to rest and sigh after doing up each button on her shirt, his feet tapping a violent rhythm on the carpet. He liked parties.
    Cat watched the lights of the city reflecting red and blue on the harbor’s murky depths. She liked parties, too. In fact, December was normally her favorite time of year. She loved the way Sydney become all giggly and light-headed. She loved the way nothing mattered quite so much and work deadlines lost their power. Of course we can’t even think about that until after Christmas, people said happily. But this December didn’t feel special at all. There was no special December smell in the air. It could just as easily have been March, or July, or any boring old month.
    The car careened across two lanes as they took off from the tollgates and Cat fell against Dan’s shoulder. They both laughed polite-stranger laughs and Dan looked at his watch. “We’re making O.K. time, we won’t be that late.”
    “That’s good.”
    They sat in silence while the cab headed toward the Rocks. Cat spoke to the window. “Do of any of your friends know, you know, about…”
    “No.”
    He took her hand and put it in his lap.
    “Of course not. Nobody knows.”
    Cat looked out at George Street. Traffic had slowed to a jolting stop-and-start crawl. Horns tooted. Men and women in business suits spilled out of the pubs and their laughing faces seemed hard and strident. People in the distance kept seeing Cat and Dan’s cab, throwing one arm in the air and then dropping it withaggressive disgust when they saw it was taken. Sydney wasn’t giggly and light-headed at Christmastime; Sydney was just drunk and sordid.
    “I wish you’d got the Paris job,” she said.
    “Yeah, well, I didn’t.”
    Ever since Dan had started working for the Australian branch of a French company, they had dreamed of a transfer to Paris. The Christmas before, he had made it onto the short list for a management position and the dream got so close they could touch it. They even enrolled themselves in a Beginner’s French course at the local evening college. In France, they would be themselves, but better. They’d wear French clothes and have French sex, while still, of course, maintaining their fundamental Aussie superiority. They’d be more worldly, more stylish, and in years to come, they’d say,