by Max Henry
Fuck.
Belle had a valid point, too: Sharon would be more than happy to let us use her car. But I’ve kept the illusion up for this long that we’re doing fine, I’m not having John discover the truth now.
I said I could take care of Belle, and I fucking meant it.
Jodie. I absently rock side to side with Sera, mulling over the option. I could trust Jodie to keep details to herself, but could I trust John not to notice Belle in a different car and ask questions?
A risk we’d have to take if I’m to get my woman mobile and myself back to work.
With the sweet smell of my baby girl’s hair and the weight of her head on my shoulder, I take a step out to the back deck and juggle my phone in one hand. The chill on the shaded side of our house tickles my bare chest, yet I wrap Sera tighter in my arm and make sure she’s as comfortable as can be while I hit the button to dial my ex.
“Hey,” she croaks.
“Morning.”
“Hell, Zeus. It’s a bit early, don’t you think?”
“It’s breakfast time,” I argue.
“At six-thirty in the morning?” She snorts a laugh. “Maybe for you. Why are you calling so early?”
“I’m just going to get to the pointy end,” I say. “Can Belle borrow your car for a few days?”
She lets out a laboured sigh. “I’d love to help, but what am I supposed to use?”
“You’ve got two vehicles, haven’t you?”
“Yeah,” she says. “But the other one is Eric’s work ute. He’s in it all day, every day.” Shit. “I’d work around it, but I have Bradley.”
How the fuck it slipped my memory that she has a damn eighteen-month-old to think of when I hold my child in my arms, who’d fucking know.
“Yeah. You’re right,” I cede. “I didn’t think about that.”
“What’s going on?” I catch the cry of the boy in question in the background.
“I need to fix Belle’s car to get it running again, and it could be a day yet if the parts aren’t in stock.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Alternator.”
“Damn.”
“Uh-huh.” I set a kiss to Sera’s sleepy head. “Sorry I called so early.”
“I wish I could help, Zeus. I really do, but I’m stuck.” She pauses. “Can she use an Uber in the meantime when she needs to go out?”
“Yeah. Probably.” Not that we could afford one. “I’ll let you go.”
I cut her off before she can ask any more questions and pocket the phone in my rugby shorts. The saying goes that money doesn’t buy happiness, and I agree with that one hundred per cent, but it sure as fuck alleviates stress.
Every morning I get up, and from the minute I open my fucking eyes to when they fall shut at night, I’m thinking in dollars and cents. I’m tired of it. Sick of the chains it binds. Just one month. One week, even, where I cold whip my bank card out and not think twice about it.
That’s all I want.
To be able to provide for my family as the man of the house should.
A simple request from a simple man.
Or at least, it should be.
FIVE
Belle
His footsteps echo back and forth through the house, Zeus’s deep voice muted through the walls as he mutters to Sera. I feel like a right bitch, holing myself away in our room, but damn it all, why can’t he see that we’re seconds from hitting bottom with such force I’m not sure either of us can recover this time around?
We’re out of options, and my freaking brain hurts trying to come up with a solution from nowhere.
“Fuck my life.” I flop back on our unmade bed, arms wide, and stare up at the ceiling.
I was supposed to be working from home by now with Sera in daycare three afternoons a week. My business is two-thirds set up, taunting me as yet another failed project.
What the hell have I achieved since leaving home? Dating a lying, cheating douchebag and travelling for a while?
Having a kid that I can’t afford to feed?
My throat thickens with shame that I refuse to show in front of anyone else. We’re all responsible for where we are in life, or at least that’s what I keep reading on those motivational posts people like Jodie share in the spirit of encouraging others.
The problem is, they make me feel worse when I think that this crapola situation is of my own doing.
They de-motivate me, not urge me to get up and going.
Because why try when you’re destined to fail?
And there’s your problem, girl. I’ve allowed myself to slide into this pessimistic default mode, always expecting the worst and hoping for the mediocre. Where did the girl with stars in her eyes go? The one who returned to New Zealand ready to forge ahead with her dreams?
I guess shit-filled nappies and sub-standard paycheques smothered her.
“Dove?”
I roll my head and face the door; sure if I stare hard enough at it, I can pick out his stubborn face on the other side. “What?”
His sigh seeps under the gap at the floor. “I’ve put Sera in her playpen. I need to go out and price a new alternator.”
I launch from the bed and stride over to the door, ripping it open on its hinges. “Where are you going to get it? You know we can’t afford the genuine part.”
His typically expressive eyes meet mine with an eerie emptiness. “Trying the wreckers at the south end first.”
I should back down, but … “What are you going to pay with? Our grocery money?”
Zeus lifts his hand and gestures toward the garage with his thumb. “Got some stuff I can scrap for a few extra.”
I can’t stomach this. I don’t want to hear about it, let alone talk about it. “Fine.”
He stays mute as I breeze past, heading for Sera.
The internal garage door closes followed soon after by the sound of his bike as he roars toward the street.
I focus on the shine in Sera’s eyes as she pushes a wooden bee around on the carpet, forcing the worries from my mind with my hands jammed between my legs. Kneeling as I am, seated on my heels, I can feel how damn bony my arse is these days. I managed to put weight on while in America but all it took was eight months of inadequate eating for it to disappear and then some.
Sera blurs, her innocence melting into a pool of smudged colours as the tears muddy my vision. For once, I let them fall. There’s only so long I can stay strong before the stress of fooling myself becomes too much to bear.
I can’t pretend everything’s okay. It’s not okay. I can’t lie and say that it’ll all work out in the end, because I’m not sure it will.
I’m drowning, and the only person who can save me is swimming in the wrong direction.
“Belle?”
I jerk from my spiral with a hiccup, hastily swiping at my unmade face with the back of one hand.
Jodie stands hesitantly in our entrance, Bradley perched on her hip. “Is Zeus home?”
I shake my head, forcing shaky legs to hold me as I rise to greet her. “He went out for a bit.”
In a few quick steps, she has Bradley set down beside Sera, concern clear in the furrow of her brow. “What’s going on, honey? Zeus called and asked if you could use my car, but he went strange after I said I couldn’t spare it.” She turns to face me and sighs. “I came over to see what the hell he’s up to now.”
My chin quivers, despite my best attempts to school my features. “My alternator went.”
“He said.”
“He’s gone to the wreckers to see if he can get another one.” I put the kitchen counter between us, fussing unnecessarily with the drying bottles in the dish rack.
“Belle,” she says softly, edging toward the opposite side. “While he’s not here, speak your mind, hon.”
I stare at the granite beneath my fingers. “Zeus hasn’t been getting many hours, and I’m unable to return to work because I have Sera to look after.” I force a smile, but she isn’t buying it.<
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“All you had to do is call, and I’d take Sera for you.”
“It’s not that easy when I feed her,” I hedge weakly.
“You’ve got bottles.” Jodie points to the obvious before me. “And if you need to express, I have a near-new pump you can use.”
I have nothing.
“What’s the real reason?” Jodie leans a little closer, ducking her head to see my face.
“I can’t return the favour,” I admit. “I don’t want to ask for something if I can’t reciprocate.”
“For fuck’s sake,” she mumbles, turning away. “What is it with you two and your stubborn pride? There’s no shame in asking for help when you need it.”
“The point is we shouldn’t need it,” I say a little louder than necessary.
Bradley startles, unaccustomed to my raised voice.
Jodie glances his way and, satisfied he’s okay, continues. “You two had an unconventional start,” she explains. “So, it only makes sense that things won’t be straight-forward now.” Jodie returns to the counter, leaning both elbows on the surface. “Be honest with yourself: Sera wasn’t planned. Fuck—Zeus wasn’t supposed to be able to have kids. Financially, you weren’t ready for her.” She straightens, lips in a flat take-no-shit smile while I stare at her, shocked. “It doesn’t make you less of a mother if you admit it, Belle.”
She’s dead on the money, but it still doesn’t mean I want to hear it put so bluntly. “I don’t regret her.”
“I didn’t say you did.” She sighs, moving towards the kids. “I just want you to admit that nobody expects you to have it all together, and nobody thinks any less of you if you don’t.”
I collapse back against the counter behind me, folding my arms across myself. “What do we do, then? Zeus isn’t getting any extra work any time soon, and I can’t do much while Sera is small.”
“Where are you stuck?” Jodie asks, making herself at home in an armchair.
“Daycare costs,” I list off on my fingers. “Sterilising equipment, a thermal printer for the studio here, and ink.” I bark a short laugh. “Food.”
Jodie sighs, shoulders drooping. “If I give you money for groceries—”
“Zeus will want to know where it came from.”
“Then I talk to the dufus,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “If need be, I’ll add in a slap across the face for good measure to wake him the hell up as well.”
I duck my head to hide my smile. I’d like to see her try.
“If we get the car fixed, then that’s most of my stress gone,” I admit in hushed tones.
“And then what?” Jodie flicks her curly blonde hair out of the way and positions herself to see me better with one arm over the back of the seat. “How are you going to make sure you don’t end up here, in this situation, again?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.” Sera cries out in frustration at a plastic ring she’s managed to trap on the wrong side of the bars.
I cross the floor on instinct, aware that Jodie watches me while I make my daughter’s day, handing her the two-dollar toy.
“I’m not going to be pushy, Belle.” She regards me with soft eyes as I settle on the floor. “But if you want help figuring things out …”
“I know. I’ll be better about asking.”
“You will ask.” Jodie scoots to the front of her seat, hands clasped before her and elbows on knees. “You’re good for Zeus, and a lot of the time I wish that things were a little different and you’d had a chance to start this life with him when he was a bit younger.” She eyes the floor, clearly lost in her head. “Maybe then things would be easier.”
“Maybe.” I reach through the playpen bars with my fingers and tickle the sole of Sera’s foot.
“You want us to stick around so I can have a chat with him when he gets back?”
“No.” I reach up and unlatch the playpen gate so I can swing it open. “I’ll talk to him about it.”
Call me fickle, but the hairs on the back of my neck get a little prickly when I think about Zeus’s ex-wife being the one to talk sense into him.
I’m his current partner. Being the woman who can make him see reason is my job.
“Okay.” Jodie rises to her feet and then steps over Sera to reach Bradley. She scoops her son into her arms, watching as my daughter does her lop-sided half-crawl to reach me. “I’ll shoot the gap if you promise you’re okay.”
I force a smile. “I am. Just one of those days.”
She matches my soft grin with one of her own. “We all have them.”
Yeah. Maybe.
Still pretty sure we aren’t meant to have them every day.
SIX
Zeus
I waste the better part of the morning riding between scrap yards to chase down the right part for Belle’s car. The first guy left me hopeful when he claimed he knew a guy who’d have it. I was frustrated by the time he sent me packing to a third yard, and when that guy decided I’d be best riding back in the direction I’d come from and wasting even more gas, I was about fit to pick up the nearest thing and smash something with it.
Half the reason why I currently chew three pieces of gum with such force my jaw aches.
I barely made an even hundred on the pieces I figured I could resource for the Barracuda at a later date. Fucking rip-off merchants will sell them for twice the value, but what the fuck else can I say when I need the folding to dig us out of our current predicament.
I just won’t tell Belle that I had to slap the remaining two-thirds of what the new alternator cost me on our already sick and abused credit card.
I’m just thankful the damn thing didn’t decline on me.
“How did you go?” Belle hesitates halfway between the kitchen and living area, a small bowl of something in hand while she watches me down the length of our hallway.
I shut the garage door behind me and make my way toward my girls. “Yeah, I found one.”
“Good.” She’s far from okay now, but at least she’s talking without raising her voice.
Small wins. “What have you two been up to?” I pause and lean down to tap Sera on the nose.
She grins up at me from her quilted mat, two Duplo blocks fisted in her little hands.
“Not a lot.” Belle tucks a leg underneath her on the sofa, bowl of noodles, yet again, cradled in her hands. “I tried moving us outdoors, but your daughter isn’t having a bar of it.” She watches me over the rim, gently blowing on the contents.
I contemplate telling her that I phoned Jodie this morning but opt against it. I don’t want to ruin whatever upswing we’re on here.
“You want coffee?”
“If you’re making.”
I remove myself from the situation altogether and semi-hide in the kitchen with my back to Belle while I fix our brews. I figure I can have a hit of caffeine now to stave off the hunger and eat what she made for my lunch as dinner if need be. If Belle’s on her second day straight of noodles, then chances are we don’t have much.
I don’t dare open the freezer to check for myself. Seeing what we lack will only make me feel worse—if that’s possible.
“You think you can fix it in an afternoon?” Belle calls from the sofa.
“I hope so.” Don’t have many options if I can’t. One day off will be enough of a hit to the pay-packet; I can’t do two.
“I, um, sent some messages this morning after you left.”
“Yeah?” I focus on the spoon circling the mug.
“Reached out to a few people who’d asked for work but didn’t want to wait until I had time free.”
I turn and dump the teaspoon in the sink, frowning at her. “What are you thinking?”
She shoves a massive forkful of noodles in her mouth as though trying to stall. Judging by the way she eyes me over the bowl, I’d say I’m right.
I wait until she can continue, not letting her duck out of the issue that easy.
“Jodie offered to watch Sera, so I figured I could ask Wade for
the extra hours in the shop.”
“When did she do that?” The coffees threaten to slosh over the side of the mugs, forcing me to slow my roll.
“This morning.”
I place Belle’s before her and take mine to sit on the floor beside Sera. I miss out on her Monday to Friday, so I may as well make the most of being home today and get daylight hours with my girl.
“Jodie said you rang her,” Belle explains softly, apparently testing my reaction.
I focus on Sera’s blocks, nudging one with my fingertip to help her line them up. “I did.”
“She came over.”
Fuck’s sake. I should have known she wouldn’t let it lie. “What else did she say?”
“Just that she can take Sera so I can get some hours at the shop to cover the cost of the part.”
I lift my chin and study Belle. She watches me with cool indifference, yet the way she fidgets with her noodles without taking a bite tells me she’s stalling.
There’s more she’s not disclosing.
“What else did you two talk about? Why would she think you need to go back to work?”
“It’s an unexpected cost, Zeus. It’s normal for people not to have budgeted for it.” She knows what I allude to.
“You didn’t tell her why, then?”
Belle rolls her eyes away—a classic sign of lying. “Of course not.”
She so did.
Belle’s phone pings from the end of the sofa beside her; she all but spills the last of her meagre lunch trying to retrieve it. I allow her the distraction and turn back to Sera, showing her how the pieces click together and pull apart again.
“Thank Christ for that.” Belle’s thumb flies over the screen, bowl balanced on her other palm.
“Are you going to share?” If she doesn’t eat those noodles soon, I might flog them from her. Coffee doesn’t seem so appealing when your stomach acid knocks on the last lining of your gut.
“I have a chair available the next three evenings, so all I need to do …” she says, trailing off as her focus narrows on the phone. “Is jack this guy up and I’m good.”
