Savoir Faire is Rhubarb‘s weekly fiction series following the lives of Kate, Jaz and Bridget. They met years ago at a party, bonded immediately, ditched their ho-hum dates and left together to reclaim what remained of the night. Fast friends ever since, they’re in their 40s now and have been through their share of loves and losses. The men in their lives may come and go, but they remain. They are independent and adore all that life has to offer.
Join us as we eavesdrop on the lives of these three friends, their adventures, their ups and downs, hopefully more ups than downs. This is where their stories start. Where they will go, nobody knows.
And just because I’m too excited not to share, here’s a hint of what’s to come. It’s not the beginning nor the end. It’s a little bite from the middle. The juiciest part, right?
Earlier today Kate accidentally bumped into a man with whom she had had a passionate affair a few years ago. Unfortunately, his wife became ill and they decided to end the affair.
Kate pushed her hand up her forehead scrunching her bangs in frustration. Aargh. What did I come in here for? She stood at the entrance to the grocery store one hand on a cart still in the rack, holding her head with the other. Right. Food. Find shopping list… must find list, she muttered searching her pockets. Nope. No list. Get a grip Katherine. Okay, so you saw Jonathan. So what? Shake it off. He’s married again. Do not go there, girl. God, he looked great. (groan) He felt great! No. Nope. He felt fa-a-bulous. I thought my knees were going to give when he scooped me up in that kiss—
“Excuse me. Miss? I’d like to get a cart, please.”
Kate started. “What? Oh! Of course. Sorry! Totally not here,” Kate said as she moved out of the way pulling a cart with her. “Sorry. Lost in thought.” She hustled herself out of the way and into the produce section.
Apples? No. Oranges? No. Avocados? Hm, maybe. His hair is more grey and a little longer than he used to keep it, she thought, gently squeezing avocados. He looks gorgeous. Dreamy. Yes, dreamy’s a good word. She placed a few avocados into her cart. His face is a little thinner. He looks like he lost a bit of weight. I hope he’s okay. He sure looked okay, she thought as she idly wandered through the produce stands. Should I see him again? He said he tried to find me for a long time after Margot died. I never told him I was moving to Toronto. She leaned both arms on her cart barely moving one foot in front of the other. Avocados might be good. She tested avocados and placed a few in her cart. No. No, I should definitely not see him again. Nope. Been there, done that. Have the scars to prove it. Be smart, Katherine. You don’t need this. Oh, avocados! Yes, I need avocados. I do not need Jonathan. She pulled an avocado from the pile, lifted it to her nose and inhaled. Oh, he smelled soooo good. With the avocado nestled in her cart, she continued meandering past piles of various vegetables. And oh, that kiss! She drew her thumb gently across her lips. What a kiss! I’m still feeling weak in the knees. We did it before, right? What’s to stop us now? Uh, maybe the fact that he’s married, Kate? But, all he asked was to meet for a drink. One drink. What harm can there be in meeting for a drink? She stopped in front of a large display of avocados, picked one up and then another and another, adding each to the growing pile in her cart. He’s just in town for a conference, I could meet him in the bar at his hotel, have a glass of wine and that’s it. One glass of wine. In the bar… at his hotel. Yeah, right. That doesn’t sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, Kate. Yup, no drink. Smart girl, Kate. He doesn’t even live in the city. And he’s married, again.
A cashier’s light caught her attention as she ambled out from between the fruit displays. She moved towards the cash desk. But, Queen’s really isn’t that far. It wouldn’t be so bad. I could maybe go there on the weekend, or he could come here… I mean, it’s just a drink. We’re all grownups here. We can behave properly. Right?
She absently unpacked her shopping, then stared, astonished, as the convoy of avocados snaked towards the cashier.
“Making guacamole tonight?” he asked.