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restaurant. For him, restaurants are for couples who have been married for too long and for friends who
     are not that close.
    “Oh,” Pito shrugs, “me and restaurants —”
    Also, Ati continues, he must stay clear of married women. Married women are very discreet, and they are, well, very, well
     . . . no need to draw a picture. What Ati means to say is that when a married woman decides to fool around, the man she chooses
     will be spending a very pleasant evening indeed, and then there’s no harassing him the morning after. She doesn’t ask, “When
     are you going to call me? Are you going to call me?” She just gives him one last passionate kiss, her hands firmly grabbing
     him on the arse, then she winks at him, blows him a kiss, and leaves.
    Oui,
Ati has a very weak spot for married women, but he wants something more now. “Ah, you’re lucky,
copain,
” he sighs, one hand on the motor gearshift and the other resting on his knee. “How come a woman like Materena never came
     my way?”
    “Try living with her,” Pito grunts.

A Story of Arse
    U sually, cleaning the house calms Materena. She has used that technique many times in her life as a mother
and
a wife, but the problem is that there’s not much cleaning to do since her three children have left home. So Materena, now
     picking up fluff off the carpet, is still shocked and fuming about the words that came out of Pito’s mouth last night. He
     did well to disappear before she picked up the kitchen knife and killed him.
    She doesn’t understand his meanness. Why wouldn’t her father want to know her, eh? She’s not a beggar, she’s not living in
     the streets. And her parents’ story — it wasn’t just a story of arse. They had tender moments together, Tom and Loana . .
     . Could it really be true that her husband thinks so little of her?
    A tear rolls down Materena’s cheek. She wonders if she will ever forgive Pito completely.
    The phone rings and Materena goes to answer it, dragging her feet with her carpet fluff rolled into a ball. She’s not in the
     mood to talk, but it could be one of her children calling.
    Sure enough, as she picks up the phone, she hears the international click before her daughter’s sweet voice calls out, “
Iaorana,
Mamie!” Out of three children living away from home, the one calling home the most is the daughter.
    “Eh!” Materena immediately feels much better. “You’re fine,
chérie?
”
    “I’m fine, Mamie, and you?”
    “All is fine,
chérie. Alors,
what is the news?”
    Well, the news is the same — studies are getting harder, four more students have dropped out, but Leilani is determined to
     get her medical degree — she knows she was born to save people’s lives. Otherwise, she’s still enjoying her part-time job
     at the bookshop, caught up with brother Tamatoa, and made a new friend . . . Leilani rambles on, and Materena knows that it’s
     only a matter of time before she comes back to her favorite topic of conversation: the ex-boyfriend she left behind so that
     she could fulfill her purpose in life.
    Hotu, sexy dentist: good-looking, down-to-earth young man who has already spent years studying overseas. Hotu this, Hotu that,
     fabulous rowing champion, more sexy than him you die. Hotu, whom Materena is not allowed to call because he might think Leilani
     is spying on him, but at the same time, should Materena see something about Hotu in the newspapers (like a marriage announcement,
     for example), Materena is to immediately report the news to Leilani.
    And Materena is to definitely go and see Hotu in the flesh if Leilani dies — Leilani said this two weeks ago as a joke! She’d
     like her body repatriated back to Tahiti, of course, and for Hotu to dig her hole. She wants sweat pouring down his sexy back
     and she gives him permission to give her one last passionate kiss on her mouth. He doesn’t need to act proper at her wake,
     kissing her on the forehead. Kiss her on the