“What did you do?”
“You’re not supposed to skateboard here, but we came late when it’s quiet so it wouldn’t be a problem, but he wants $600 before he’ll let us go.”
“Holy fuck, Etta. $600. You’re supposed to be home, the three of you. Charlie’s going to go ape and tie you to your beds for the rest of eternity.”
“Which is why you can’t tell her.”
He could hear the twins arguing in the background. “Which is why you’ll be paying me back with interest.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re bored, how long will you be?”
He disconnected. Let them sweat for another fifteen minutes. He was already in the largely empty car park and he could see the security office. On the wall was a large sign that read: No skateboards. No bicycles. No scooters. Riders will be fined $200. He dialled Sky.
“Sorry, babe. Are you home?” He heard the sound of the security door of Sky’s block of units closing.
“Yeah. What happened?” There was no trace of animosity in her voice.
“Etta and the twins didn’t run fast enough. They got caught skateboarding in the Food Plus car park.”
“That’s badass.”
“They need $600 for bail.”
Sky laughed. “Is that even legal?”
“I’m thinking of telling the mall cop he can keep them.” She laughed again and he heard her keys jingle, she was almost inside the apartment. “If he doesn’t take credit card, he’ll have to keep them.” He heard the door close. She was safe inside now.
“I’m sorry about before, babe. I bugged you about moving in with me and now I feel like my space has been invaded. It’s made me crabby with you. I don’t want to be that way. Do what you need to do and come home. I’ll make it up to you.”
He smiled out at a cement pillar that said B2, reversed out of bright green. Understanding tasted good. “What flavour?”
“You.”
Sex with Sky tasted a whole lot better.
10: Sudden Comfort
Audrey took her shoes off outside the front door. Creeping into her own house was appropriate when it was this late. 12.30am, a lot later than the 8pm she told Reece to expect her, b
ut the meeting had gone on and on, and the only woman on the team, she didn’t want to be the first one to leave, because that’s what they all expected.
She’d offered to call Merrill to relieve Reece, but he’d said it was no trouble to stay. He’d done bath time with Mia on a couple of occasions now as well as putting her to bed, and the one overnight so far, so he knew the routine, and every time she’d texted to check in, he sent a smiley face back. The last check in was an hour ago.
She could hear the TV down low. She dumped her bag and shoes and tiptoed down the hall to check on Mia. She was curled up with Growly Ted and Paul the giraffe, cosy and safe, if a little crowded. She stood there a minute and tried to fight off the return of the bad mother feeling. The giraffe’s name wasn’t Paul, it was Harold or Harriet or Herbert, some uncommon H name, she wondered how Mia had learned, and a paid employee had spent all day, all week with Mia, and put her to bed tonight.
There was a part of her that hoped Mia played up for Reece, cried and carried on and got out of bed a dozen times for obscure inventive reasons: her toes hurt, her throat was thirsty, her bed was too cold or too hot, or too lumpy, just so he didn’t think it was too easy to be her surrogate parent.
He’d told her the story of how he’d had to bail out three of his sisters. They’d sat in the kitchen while Mia played with Lego, and laughed about Etta’s indignation at being caught, Neeva’s excitement and Gin’s fear, about how Reece had one over them, keeping the adventure secret from Charlie, and had them doing all sorts of chores in the house and garden without complaint. He admitted to being a big sook and missing them. And she liked him even more for that.
He’d filled Cameron’s shoes in an unexpected way. His care of Mia was exemplary. But in so many unobtrusive ways he found time to extend that care to her as well. She regularly came home to a pre-prepared dinner. On Friday nights there was a chilled bottle of wine in the fridge. They talked through the week, how it was for Mia first and foremost, then how Audrey’d faired at work.
Reece didn’t talk much about himself, but he revealed things just the same. Living with Sky wasn’t as easy as he’d thought it would be. He didn’t say it, but he wasn’t rushing off at night to be with her either. If anything he dawdled about, always one last thing he wanted to do, to set up for the next day. She should’ve pushed him out the door except she enjoyed his company.
He’d found time to work in her garden, cleaning it up and re-organising the shed so she could find things there again. He fixed a wonky hinge on a cupboard in the bathroom, and he glued new rubber soles on her favourite boots. He brushed aside thanks that made him blush. And that blush did something to her. Erased her regard and redrew it with big chunky strokes as admiration that bled outside the lines.
Reece would know she was home, but he must be engrossed in what sounded like an old ep of Buffy. She pulled Mia’s door to a near close and went up the hallway. He had a side lamp on, so the room glowed warm. She saw him bare feet first. He was stretched the length of her couch, his calves and snowshoe feet hanging out in space, his arms folded around a pillow behind his head, his t-shirt rucked up so she could see a line of skin between it and the waist of his jeans. He was breathing deeply, eyes closed, his hair all mussed, as gone to this world as Mia was.
He looked like the giant in Mia’s Jack and the Giant book, captured and held down for her examination. His feet were twice the size, and some, of hers. She could lie full length on this couch with Mia in her arms and none of their body parts hung off the edge. His shoulders were almost wider than the couch cushions. It was a novelty to see him so relaxed. He was always moving. Picking up after Mia, playing with her, sorting things out around the house. And then there was the dancing.