Home makes me recall Ruby, who was often keen to escape hers.
"God, I'm happy to be out of the house," the little minx grumbled, "Mum is driving me nuts. She wants me to re-attend mass with her."
Coral and I raised eyebrows, surprised to hear a rare Ruby vent. As a troupe, we lolled, relaxing in Coral's bedroom on a holiday afternoon — in 1972.
A bored Ruby did a mock Catholic sign of the cross. Her finger to her mouth, a dashing point to her left and right nipple, and a suggestive poke below her navel.
Josh's eyes popped, mine turned away, and I didn't see Coral's, though she stated, "Crass, sweetie."
I figured Ruby vented steam because she loathed Snap.
We played endless Snap for Josh until Ruby snaffled the pack.
She huffed and suggested, out of the blue, "I'll read your future in the cards. Who is game?"
Here it was, proof of recent speculation by Coral and me, Ruby spreading her wings. However, her new skill caught us short!
My bestie and I gave each other an open-mouthed look of disbelief.
Josh, pumped, insisted, "Yes!" straight away.
He lay side down, happy for someone else to entertain him.
Coral wasn't sure, "What is this card reading nonsense, Rubes? You should know that you plan and make your own future!"
Her hands flew high, perhaps intended to short-circuit the brunette's intention.
I inquired, "When did you begin reading the cards?"
Ruby didn't answer me because she decided to answer Coral's new question, which flew over the top of mine.
"Can you read the cards about yourself?"
Smart, Coral.
She winked leisurely at me; I rushed one back.
The little minx missed our exchange, shuffling the cards.
Ruby responded, "Sure, I will do a reading for myself."
"Okay," fired the golden girl, "I'm planning the reading order."
Coral decided the sequence would be me, Josh, Ruby and herself last.
Ruby shuffled, sliding the deck through her fingers, ready to lay our lives on the carpet.
The brunette stated, "Whatever the cards say, that's all I've got. The one reading, whether you like what you hear or not."
Josh yawned, prone and bored, "Get on with it."
Ruby fired dagger eyes at him.
"I am a beginner. I will do a three-card spread and comment on your life and love prospects."
Coral confidently drummed her fingers on her knock-out thighs, "I know those two already."
Her hand sought Josh's at her kneeling side.
The brunette rolled her eyes before concentrating on the cards. She split the deck in half and spread the following three cards.
"Okay, puppy boy. The Eight of Diamonds. Well, that means marriage."
She continued, " And a few kids. Ace of Hearts – you will receive a love letter or two. Queen of Hearts – I see a fair-haired girl. Who knows, maybe a blonde."
"Brittany!" Josh yelled, digging into my ribs.
"Yeah, life in general, marriage and kids," Coral retorted.
She perked, "Regardless, Luke with Brittany, we would all like to see that!"
Coral sprawled next to Josh, losing interest in Ruby's game. I chewed a nail, thankful my reading ended quickly. I sagged into myself, glad the spotlight left my future.
"Mmm," Ruby muttered, shuffling the cards rapidly.
She split the pack in the middle and laid out three new cards.
"Josh - Four of Hearts. Mm, it looks like a late marriage. Sorry, Coral. Two of Spades – change, trouble or both. The Ten of Diamonds - change for the better."
Josh yawned, bored.
"You minx, Ruby!" chastised Coral, kneeling higher, "You know we are up and down."
She frowned directly at the pixie.
Then she huffed, "Girlfriend, tell us something we don't already know!" as her fingers gripped and crumpled the pleats of her pretty lemon skirt.
I had never seen Ruby flare. Her chin jutted, and her nostrils dilated as she breathed deep.
Feisty and undeterred, she insisted, "I'm not rigging this. I read what I see: me, then you!"
She shuffled for ages and split the pack deep. She placed the top three cards on the carpet—Josh propped on his elbow with sudden interest. I, too, paid closer attention than to my cards.
The mysterious one might expose a gem about herself.
"Nine of Diamonds," she hesitated.
"Restlessness."
She followed, "Ten of Clubs means to travel. Nine of Clubs is a lover… well, there you are," she finished.
"Christ!" Coral shrieked.
Her hands flapped and flopped, revealing, I believe, her disappointment at what I thought, too, an incomplete wishy-washy brunette reveal.
"Missy, you do French. You know Italian, too. You will definitely travel."
Coral scrunched her nose and then smiled; I suppose deciding cards were not worth a girlfriend tiff.
Though she finished a little sarcastic, "I like how a lover showed up, but it is too vague: restless. God, Rubes, you already are!"
She twisted her locks around a finger. "Okay, let's get this over and go to the movies. My pick."
The brunette shuffled the cards, obviously agitated. The pack splattered onto the rug. She collected them and shuffled again systematically. Ruby cut the deck close to the top. She laid Coral's three cards neatly.
"Okay, the Seven of Clubs means a disagreement. Ace of Spades - emotional conflict. Three of Hearts - be careful what you say or want?"
Ruby stacked the pack before Coral could reply.
She piled the cards on the carpet next to the rug. Her petite jaw jutted, ready to respond to any verbal punch Coral might throw.
Coral shook her head lowly before stating, "No disagreements here. No discussion of card nonsense either. Grab your gear and go. We have a movie to catch."
Everyone rose and stretched. The card stack scattered as Coral deliberately kicked the pack. The point of her sneaker ground and creased some cards.
Josh, Ruby and I ignored the mess, eager for a movie.
Our fun Coral re-emerged, closing her front door. She chopped and changed linked arms partners with the three of us all the way to the cinema.
When we arrived, Josh demanded we view an action movie. Coral chose Walkabout, a thought-provoking film. Josh and Coral sat centre in the padded crimson seats. Ruby settled a bucket of popcorn in her lap, her feet tucked and folded under her, the lithe minx. She fed salted caramel kernels to her girlfriend while I relaxed beside my mate — we wolfed a tub of sugar and cinnamon popcorn.
Exiting the movie, Coral said, "Burgers at Bullseye."
We entered a favourite diner drawn by the taste, not the decor. The checkered tile floor was worn, and the dusty Venetian blinds blocked a street view. We talked about the film between bites of yummy hamburgers.
Josh ate his burgers with 'the lot.'
I drew the line at including red onion.
Ruby rejected fried eggs.
"They look like flat boobs," she joked.
Coral, near speechless, put her hands under her chin, "Rubes, honey bun, all breasts deserve respect."
The brunette bit her burger while managing to flare her nostrils.
Coral liked a dainty burger — possible if you avoid the lot.
She enjoyed a beef patty, fried egg, beetroot and a pineapple ring for sweetness.
"Not enough nudity in the film," complained Josh, his mouth half full of shredded meat.
Coral and I talked about the symbols in the movie.
The brunette contributed a pertinent insight.
"The film was nostalgic for the Garden of Eden. It shows how life moves on from childhood."
Her voice pitched low, hushed for a minx who delivered shrewd observations brazenly.
God, she was smart!
Her film comments sailed way over Josh's head.
"Okay, film critics, what next?" he burped, uninterested, having demolished a second burger.
"I feel like ice cream," Coral tittered.
She continued, "I know it's cold, but their Neapolitan looks delish. I'll shout, everyone."
The golden girl jumped up, ready to go to the counter and buy us all the layered flavours.
Ruby suddenly stood, announcing, "No ice cream for me, and whatever you plan next, count me out. I need to go. Catch you later."
She didn't wait for a response.
Coral and I knew trying to alter a brunette's decision was a complete waste of effort. Ruby tightened her ponytail and let it bounce. She departed sassy; her butt wriggled.
From the diner's corner, she drew several wolf whistles from a table of older, leather-jacketed guys. Ruby appeared initially not to react until she added a hip shimmy on both sides of the glass door.
Once we finished our ice-creams, my bestie insisted on more fun.
"Come on, my bear," Coral grinned, taking Josh's paw. "Let's go. I'll think of something we can do."
I remained seated.
Coral's other hand eased out crinkles in her lemon skirt, indicating I believed she meant she needed privacy with Josh.
"You too," she beamed, grabbing my hand.
And with Coral between us, we made our exit.
A pretty girl holding two boys' hands drew a chorus of wolf whistles.
She dropped my hand.
I imagined I'd embarrassed her!
My arms dropped limply by my sides.
I noticed Josh lost her hand, too! He scratched his head.
Coral wheeled and faced the table of beefy dudes directly, "Tsk, tsk," she said, wagging a finger.
Her poise left them shamefaced.
Two dipped heads lowered into their milkshakes, and the other two munched burgers under floppy hair, hiding their eyes.
We shared a nervous laugh far down the street from the burger house at what we knew was a safe distance.
Coral linked her arms between ours and stated, "Games at Josh's."