Page 43 of What Did I Miss?

Pole dancing isn’t as glamorous or as easy as one would think.

Unless you’re Cece. Twenty minutes into a beginners’ class, she’s tackling it with the advanced skills of Jennifer Lopez in Hustlers .

She slithers down a pole in orange booty shorts, confidence soaring as it once did. It’s nice to have the old Cece back.

‘How are you so good at this?’ Makayla asks, falling onto her backside once again.

‘How are you so bad? You’re the athletic one.’

Blessed with good genes, Makayla can usually master any physical activity.

Sharp footwork and astute hand-eye coordination have got her this far in life, none of which matter today.

But she’s not giving up ( Never !). She charges at the pole like it’s a wild horse to be tamed.

If she can conquer The Firefighter Slide – the easiest and most basic trick – she’ll stop feeling like a loser.

Makayla lands flat on her back. Her pride takes another hit when a woman in her nineties, who arrived late, nails the move first try.

What a relief the class isn’t full of twenty-year-old fitness bunnies.

It’s bursting with people of all ages and sizes who’ve given up an evening in front of the TV to swing along to Beyoncé beats.

Which they do so freely, with child-like wonder in a brightly lit studio surrounded by unforgiving mirrors.

It’s not sexy like Makayla imagined when she added it to her list. It is, however, an experience she won’t forget in a hurry.

The bruises on her thighs won’t let her.

Instructor Bonnie has freakish flexibility, and an unparallelled ability to strut around in bedazzled stilettos without tripping.

She praises her protégé, Cece, who straddles the pole like it’s her new calling in life.

Makayla keeps her smile in place until Bonnie takes her ‘you can do it’ toxic positivity somewhere else.

‘Wheee!’ Cece floats sideways in the air, showing off impressive core strength. With pointed toes, she splits her legs further than Makayla could ever dream of.

‘Jimmy is a lucky man. By the way, how are things between you two since the retreat?’

‘The counselling sessions were great. I’ll definitely keep those up.

’ Cece speaks at her usual volume, which means everyone can hear their private conversation.

‘I had one of those breakthrough moments. That’s what they call it.

Being in a funk had nothing to do with how I look on the outside and more to do with how I felt on the inside.

’ Her face softens as she exhales. ‘I didn’t realise how much Jimmy was hurting, too.

Since becoming parents, he felt me pulling away, but didn’t know what to do.

The retreat helped us get on the same page.

It was like we needed to open up our wounds in order for them to heal properly.

We also had a lot of special adult time.

’ Cece giggles. ‘Like, lots .’ She nudges Makayla. ‘We even did—’

‘Okay, I get it. You don’t need to share the details with everyone here.’ Makayla covers her ears until Cece’s lips stop moving. ‘I’m glad you got a lot out of it. Anytime you need a babysitter, don’t be shy to call Aunty La La.’ She lifts her chin, pleased with her new nickname.

‘I still can’t believe we left Mr Bunny in our car and you got Tilly to sleep without it. Speaking of dirty weekends, what went down with you and Beau?’

‘Nothing.’ Makayla sizes up the pole and grips it so tight her knuckles go white. ‘Did I tell you Rongo asked me to make a speech at his wedding? I have to go up there in front of all those people and lie about how wonderful marriage is. I’m considering faking my death. Scuba diving incident?’

Cece snorts. ‘Have I ever told you how morbid you are?’

‘Only every second day.’

‘You’ll do great. Did you ever consider that the speech doesn’t need to be about marriage? Speak about love. You might have something to say on that topic.’ Cece turns around to hide her smirk, even though there are mirrors on every wall.

Makayla climbs the pole, gritting her teeth. With sweaty palms, it’s no use; she’s down again in two seconds. She punches the metal, fist throbbing immediately.

‘I’m excited about Rongo’s wedding, and then someone’s turning The Big Three-O!’ Cece playfully slaps Makayla’s bottom. ‘Have you given any more thought to what you’d like to do?’

‘I already told you, nothing .’

‘Hypothetically, if we did something , who would you want there?’

Makayla hovers by Cece. ‘Don’t even think about throwing me a surprise party. Or a surprise dinner. No surprises.’

‘Got it. But you’d want Beau there, right? You two are … what are you exactly?’

Makayla charges at the pole, determined to make it her bitch once and for all. With slimy hands, she slips right off and goes down like a bowling pin. She lies splayed across the cool timber floor, accepting defeat.

‘We’re friends. Nothing more. Nothing less.’ That’s what she wanted from the start, and yet saying it feels strange on her tongue.

Cece takes a seat beside her, eyes full of concern. ‘It’s okay to admit you have feelings for him. Trust me, you’ll feel better.’

‘Fine then. I like him! Happy?’ Makayla yells the words just as ‘Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)’ comes to an end and there’s a drag of silence before the next track plays. ‘It doesn’t matter, because he’s not interested in me. Well, not anymore. He couldn’t be less interested.’

Makayla’s eyes prickle with tears, and it takes every ounce of her willpower to hold them in.

Crying in public is embarrassing. Crying at a pole dancing lesson, more so.

What’s wrong with her? She never used to be this fragile.

Beau has somehow turned on a tap that wasn’t even connected to pipes anymore.

Cece props Makayla’s head onto her knee and gently strokes her hair.

It’s quite soothing, and helps to block out all the onlookers, who are probably wondering why a grown woman is having a meltdown in the middle of class.

With a dismissive wave, Cece sends Bonnie on her way. She’s got this under control.

‘What makes you think Beau’s lost interest? Did he say that?’

‘No. Not with words. It’s more of a feeling.’ Makayla rubs her chest where the heaviness sits. ‘Everything’s different between us because I can’t give him what he wants.’

‘What does he want?’

‘He wants … and he thinks I don’t … maybe I can’t have … even if I could, do I want to?’ There’s no point resisting tears anymore. She uses the back of a sleeve to wipe her runny nose.

‘Slow down, hun. I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ The worry in Cece’s voice matches the look in her eyes.

A wave of exhaustion floods Makayla, and with her defences down, the words fight their way to her lips. It’s now or never.

‘Can we go somewhere else? I have to tell you something.’

Take a pole dancing class ?

The last thing Makayla wants is to upset Cece, and yet, she has.

They’re tucked into a corner booth at a diner.

It’s the kind of place that has laminated menus with photos of the meals.

They look as unappetising as the smell of burnt fish wafting from the kitchen.

The front window, decorated with blinking Christmas lights that have either been on seven months too long or set up five months early caught their eye when they left the pole dancing class.

Without a customer in sight and the soulful baritones of an Elvis Presley playlist purring through the speakers, this seemed like an ideal place to talk.

Makayla wasn’t even a quarter of the way through her story when Cece began sniff-crying. Now that it’s all on the table, figuratively and literally, Cece’s shoulder-bouncing sobs keep two young waiters at bay. Neither is brave enough to approach and take their order.

Makayla ignores the One per customer sticker on the serviette holder and pushes a handful across.

‘I’m sorry,’ Makayla whispers, hoping to be forgiven for keeping this to herself at the cost of their friendship.

Sorry for all those hurt looks when she’d steered the topic away from Tilly.

Sorry for not initiating any communication when Cece was on maternity leave, and sorry about sweeping it under the rug when she returned to work.

Makayla foolishly thought that if enough time passed, they’d fall back into their Lorelai and Sookie rhythm.

‘Why are you apologising? I’m the one who needs to. I’m sorry about Eddie and the other babies.’ Cece lifts her cat-eye glasses to dab away the clumps of blue mascara beneath them. ‘I can’t believe you went through all that alone and I didn’t pick up on it. I’m an awful friend. The worst.’

‘You’re not.’ Makayla grabs one of Cece’s flailing hands and holds it still.

‘Then why didn’t I know?’

‘Because I hid it from you. From everyone.’ Her words crackle as they come out, and she tries to swallow the emotions before realising that’s what brought them to this point in the first place.

She opens her mouth, letting the pressure come to the surface.

One painful cry, and Cece leaps from her spot and slides in next to Makayla.

They collapse into a hold that’s more comforting than a hot chocolate on a biting winter’s day.

‘You’re not mad at me?’ Makayla asks.

‘No, I’m mad at us. Mad isn’t the right word. I’m disappointed we were big scaredy cats and didn’t address the weirdness between us. I could’ve been there for you.’

‘I wouldn’t have let you. You know I’m not good at this. I grew up in a household where our family motto was “suck it up”. Then I married a man with the emotional capacity of an ant.’

‘Why don’t we change that? Right here, right now, let’s swear to tell each other the important stuff.

Even if it hurts.’ Cece loops their little fingers.

Pinkie promises are more binding to her than a legal document.

‘Do you think you need to speak to someone else? I know you’re against therapy and whatnot, but what about a support group? ’

Makayla shakes her head. Opening up to Beau and Cece is already out of her comfort zone. What good would it do to share her feelings with a room full of strangers?

‘What about Warren? He’s probably been bottling this up too. It might be good to have a sit-down with him.’

Makayla recoils at the notion. ‘Waz doesn’t care about any of this. He didn’t give a shit about me or Eddie.’ A cocktail of emotions swims beneath her skin.

Cece tilts her head to one side like she doesn’t agree, but instead of commenting further, she goes in softer and asks, ‘What are you going to do about Beau?’

Hearing his name sucks all the air from her lungs.

‘Nothing. I can tell he’s not interested anymore, he’s just too nice to say it. It’s for the best. We never would have worked.’

Cece draws Makayla in closer, offering her cushioning chest as a pillow, like a mother would. Makayla snuggles in, inhaling the generous spritz of fruity perfume. Her love life might be in shambles, but at least she has her best friend back.