Three Wishes

by Liane Moriarty

You’re having one of those days of accumulating misery when you argue violently with someone in a position of power: a bank teller, a dry cleaner, a three-year-old.

It doesn’t really matter much what you do, because you have no control over your role in the amusing little anecdotes they’re already busy composing;

No paradigm shift could eliminate a good strong dose of Catholic guilt.

When you and I first got together, I remember thinking, Bloody hell, why did nobody tell me it could be this good?”

This was something quite big. This was something for grown-ups to fix.

Sometimes she wondered if she stopped feeling anything at all.

She could have had a different life.

This proved, according to the author, that personality, just like the color of your hair, was decided at conception. Your destiny was indelibly carved in your genes.

It was only a job—a means of making money.

“People get pregnant from having sex, Mum. Not from a perfect marriage. You ought to know that.”

“I’m not saying you’re better than them, I’m saying you’re smarter than them.”

If Marcus wasn’t there, how could Gemma still be there?

When they saw Cat, they stopped and crumpled as if they thought just by coming they could fix things and seeing her made them realize there was nothing to be done and nothing to be said.

Someone should mold her into a nice, neat smooth ball and start again.

If she just gave people a chance, they would get around to doing things. If she would just relax, chill out, loosen up.

And for just a moment, in spite of all the reasons not to feel happy (like the sinister bruise of worry over today’s parking lot incident), Lyn experienced an unexpectedly lovely unfurling of happiness.

And if I’m not really real, then I can’t really hurt you.

What would happen to those stories now? Would it be like they never happened? Would they have to rewrite all their histories as if Dan weren’t there?

Gemma followed the script perfectly.

Cat took a shaky breath. If Barb started being nice to her, she would fall apart.

Hank didn’t know that Lyn had no right to feel anxious when everyone knew her life was so wonderful,

Men were so precious about cars, as if they were people.

Gemma herself thought there was nothing nicer than other people’s babies. It was especially pleasing the way you got to hand them straight back when they started doing anything complicated, like crying.

Try not to saddle yourself with too distinct a personality too early in life. It might not suit you later on.

“You can’t change your fundamental dorky personality.”

Better to have stayed cold all along than had this taste of warmth.

Oh, darling, don’t be sad. Whatever it is that’s worrying you will probably turn out to be nothing. Or eventually it just won’t matter anymore. And one day all you’ll remember is blowing soap bubbles on the Corso with your sisters. And how you were young and beautiful and didn’t even know it.

The family heroically refrained from mentioning that they’d been suggesting it for the last ten years. Now, it was Nana’s idea—and an extremely clever and sensible one.

If she could parallel park—she could take on the whole world!

Her future back then, thought Cat now, was like a long buffet table of exotic dishes awaiting her selection. This career or that career. This boy or that boy. Marriage and children? Maybe later—for dessert, perhaps. She didn’t realize they’d start clearing the plates away so soon.

You do know why you’re feeling a little bit happy, don’t you? It’s because that guy whistled at you! Instead of feeling objectified like a good feminist should, you’re actually feeling flattered, aren’t you?

Maybe it wasn’t that hard to be happy.

“I learned it from your mother. The first rule of cooking—carefully drape tea towel over left shoulder.”

It had been years since she’d made a new friend—it was a little bit like falling in love, except without the stress.

He just got in a bad mood every now and then. Like people did.