by Davina Stone
“And you learned to cook,” he said softly. When their eyes met, the infinite kindness in his made her want to cry.
“Yes.” She gulped and gave him a tight little smile. “I just wanted everything to be okay. Everyone to be happy.”
“Of course you did. What seven-year-old wouldn’t want their family to be happy?” He paused. “But maybe now it’s time to focus on what makes you happy.”
Without hesitation she said, “This,” and leaned over and kissed him.
“Yes,” said Carts. “This.” And kissed her back.
And even though there was a table of piled up plates between them, this time, she sensed no resistance, no pulling away.
Just his warm lips loving hers.
Chapter 19
Carts heard the flute and piano duet even before he opened the gate. Mozart, he could tell that much; a sonata he guessed, but that was about the extent of his knowledge. What mattered was he’d heard Mum and Avery playing it often enough.
Together.
As the notes drifted through the open window, a sense of wellbeing enveloped him.
Okay, given the choice he’d probably still be wandering around Perth with Judith, if she hadn’t had a job to do. “I have to tell them they need to sort out their differences. That I can’t be the go-between anymore,” she’d said emphatically. “And then I’m going to draw up an IOU agreement and send it to Mark.”
“Do you need any accountant speak thrown in?” He’d happily write the little fuckwit a jargon-filled IOU, on Pearson’s letterhead.
“I’ll call you if I get stuck.”
And when she’d smiled at him, it had felt like they were a team. Like he had found an ally who would shield his back while he shielded hers. Together they were stronger. Wasn’t that how it was supposed to be when you were in a great relationship? Better together than apart?
Skirting around the house now, he quietly let himself in through the doors of Mum’s music room. A surprising sight greeted him; not only were Mum and Avery playing, but Dad was sitting in the wing chair in a corner, listening intently.
Dad was usually off doing his own thing in his office, stooped over his oak desk with its green-shaded desk lamp, a worried hand stroking his bald head as he marked student papers or prepped for his next lecture.
“Hi there, Carter.” Dad looked up with a bright smile. No criss-cross of creases on his forehead.
Mum and Avery stopped for a brief second, but Carts shook his head. “That’s beautiful, keep going.” He pulled up a chair next to Dad, and seamlessly, they started up where they’d left off.
Avery’s face was pale, but her eyes no longer had that haunted look about them as she wrinkled them over the top of her flute in acknowledgement.
Mum looked happy and relaxed. Like suddenly everything in the world was back in its rightful place.
As for his dad—Carts cast a perplexed glance at his father. With one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapped to the rhythm. And his lips were tilted upwards in a smile, which was as rare as hen’s teeth when it came to Dad.
Carts drew up a chair and listened until the piece was over. Dad applauded with gusto. Carts joined in.
Avery grinned and gave a little bow, then placed her flute reverently back in its case.
He went and gave her a hug. “How are you feeling?” he asked as she nestled into his embrace.
“Okay,” she said, a little guarded, then pulled back and glanced at Mum. “But I’m not going to school tomorrow.”
“Yes you are,” Mum said with a touch of steel in her voice.
“Not if you insist on taking me.” Avery pouted. “I know you’ll say something to Zammy.”
“Dead right I will,” Mum answered. “I want that boy’s address. If his mother knew…”
“Seewhatimean!” Avery squealed indignantly. “I wish I’d never told you. You’ll do something embarrassing. I can sort this myself, Mum.”
“How about if I take you to school?” Dad said quietly. Avery’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened. “Really, seriously, you would?”
“Absolutely. I’d love to.” Dad stood up and rubbed his hands together in a gesture Carts remembered from times when he’d take them all off on an expedition to find fossils, or out on the boat to point out the different kinds of algae. “Let’s lighten up a bit. Shall I put the kettle on for a cup of tea, Mrs Wells?”
Mum put the piano lid down and the atmosphere relaxed a tad. The subject of Zammy was closed, at least for now. “Yes, the cake’s in the cupboard, second shelf down. Be careful of the icing.”
Carts and Avery both cast identical puzzled looks at their parents, and Carts racked his brain. No, it wasn’t anyone’s birthday. Dad’s was still two months away, and Mum’s was on Boxing Day. Avery, he’d never forget, came kicking and screaming into the world on the third day of January.
While Dad was off clattering cups in the kitchen, Mum said to Avery, “That was seamless, love. Nice and even, no wavering on the longer notes.”
Avery gave a grudging smile. “What’s the cake for?”
Mum returned a secretive smile. “You’ll see.”
When Dad came in he was balancing a big tray with cups and plates and an iced sponge cake with a plaque that read, “Congratulations”.
It all seemed a bit inappropriate, after Avery’s night from hell.
Dad poured the tea, sliced the cake and handed out portions.
Carts eyed his piece. How was he ever going to fit it in after his huge breakfast? “Mum, this looks amazing, did you make it?”
“I did. It’s an idiot-proof Andrea Blake, I saved it from the Sunday paper.”
Carts grinned. Aaron’s stepmum’s recipes were in the paper every week. He’d never thought to try cooking one himself, but with Judith to guide him… the thought created a starburst of joy in his chest.
“Well,” said Dad, grinning and wrinkling his tattooed eyebrows. Doing that always showed them up as being fake, but hey, what did any of that matter? It was a person’s imperfections that made them special, after all. “I have some news. I had the nod that I’ve landed the head of department position. It will be announced on Monday.”
“Oh Dad, that’s amazing!” Avery pitched herself at her father and he hugged her.
“I’m so sorry sweetheart. I’ve been an absent father lately. Worried about being made redundant. I should have paid more attention to what was going on for you. But anyhow, looks like we’ll be able to afford your year in Paris, now.”
“No!” Avery recoiled and stepping back, nearly tripped over the rug. Carts caught her, and felt her body go rigid. “No, I don’t want to.”
“But darling…” Mum protested.
“No. You don’t understand. Mum. Dad.” She looked from one of her parents to the other, panic-stricken. “I’m not ready to leave home. I don’t want to go that far away. Like yesterday, I thought I was ready to go to that party and be… an adult and all that stuff, and I couldn’t handle any of it.” She pressed shaky fingers into her eyes. “I just want to go at my own pace. Grow up the way I want to, not feel all this pressure all the time. It makes me so anxious.”
“Maybe we should talk about this later, when you’ve got over the shock of last night,” Mum soothed.
Avery shook her head. “I’ve made up my mind.” Her jaw set. “I’m not going to Paris. I’ll apply to the Academy of Performing Arts here in Perth, but I am not going that far away from home.”
Carts placed a steadying arm around her trembling shoulders. She never needed to feel bad about being a homebody. Avery blinked up at him through teary eyes. “I don’t want to leave you, and Mum and Dad. Why does everyone want to push me to grow up before I’m ready?”
Mum opened her mouth, possibly to point out that no-one had forced Avery to go to Zammy’s party in a scrap of sparkly material the size of a tea towel, but luckily Dad stepped in. “Well said, sweetheart.” He frowned hard at Mum. “If you want to study here, of course you can.
There’s always post-grad overseas—when you’re older. And I, for one, would have to say we’ve got some of the best places in the world to study, right here in Perth.”
Carts felt Avery’s body uncoil bit by bit. Her mouth tilted at the corners.
Mum sighed. “But it’s such an opportunity, darling. Why don’t you at least think about—”
“Rosemary, don’t live your life vicariously through our daughter,” Dad said sternly.
Mum looked quite taken aback.
“You pushed Avery to apply for that scholarship, and if you want my reading of the situation, it’s because you missed out.”
Mum nibbled on her piece of cake, choosing not to catch anyone’s eye.
“Admit it, Rosemary.”
Mum huffed and put her plate down. “Hmmm, okay, yes, I would have loved the opportunity if my family could have afforded it.” She sighed. “And then I met you… well, no regrets, you dear old thing.” She looked at Avery and smiled. “I have to say as it got closer, I have thought maybe it’s not the right thing for you. And I know I’d miss you terribly, sweetheart.”
“Even though we fight?” Avery asked, licking a blob of icing off her finger.
“Isn’t that what parents are supposed to do with their teenage kids?” Mum laughed, a tad ruefully.
After this, they all sat and chatted about what Dad’s new job would entail and ate more of the cake. Despite his breakfast feast with Judith, Carts proved yet again there was always a sweet spot left. Quite a large one, he decided, as he took a second slice.
When Dad mentioned the substantial pay rise that went with the position, Carts had a sudden thought. “Why don’t you treat yourself to something, Dad? You’ve turned into a complete workaholic these past few years and it can’t be good for your health.”
“I know I have.” Dad’s shoulders sagged. “Work just seems to demand more and more out of you these days.”
“You could always think about buying another boat,” Carts suggested. “Second-hand, surely that would be affordable?”
A slow smile dawned on Dad’s face. He looked at his wife. “Rosemary, do you think… something like we used to have, just to fossick around on the river at weekends?”
“Oh, yes Dad, yes.” Avery clapped her hands together. “That would be so cool. I could take Bec and my friends from the orchestra out on it.”
Dad laughed. “Impromptu concerts on the river you reckon?”
Mum said thoughtfully, as she got up to clear the plates, “It would be nice to do more as a family. And, yes, I do think you need something other than work, Adrian. I guess it would be good for all of us to spend more time relaxing. It feels like years since we’ve focused on enjoying life.”
“And how about you, Carter?” Dad turned to him. “You’ve always talked about learning to sail. How about me teaching you the basics, then getting some lessons?”
A delighted grin spread across Carts’ face. “You bet!”
After she left Carts, Judith got busy.
Seated at her desk in her craft room, the place she always felt at her best, she sat and typed up an IOU agreement to send to Mark. Terms: one month to have the full $3000 back in her account.
Not. Negotiable.
If that didn’t work, she’d take Carts up on his offer to help with something more formal. But for now, she wanted to be the one to state her position clearly. On her own terms.
As she sent the email, she felt immensely pleased with herself. Rome wasn’t built in a day and all that, but at least she’d started to lay down the foundations.
Afterwards, she changed into jeans and sneakers, tugged a baggy jumper over her head, and coiled her long hair into a bun.
Then she headed for her parents’ house.
When she got there, she let herself in with her key. Dad was sitting in the living room watching a replay of yesterday’s footie match. Mum was nowhere to be seen.
Her heart dropped. “Where’s Mum?”
“She’s not got up yet.”
“How is she?”
“Subdued. But she’ll be glad to see you when she wakes up.” Dad flicked the top off his beer can with a fizz. “Why don’t you grab a beer and sit and watch the footie with me?”
She hadn’t had a beer in years, and she wouldn’t have a clue who was doing what in footie, but the sudden urge to just sit with her dad was overwhelming.
“Sure, is there a cold one in the fridge?”
“Yep, second shelf, grab yourself a glass.”
She got the beer and was just about to get a glass out of the cabinet when she halted. Why did she always need a glass? She tugged at the ring pull and cold beer fizzed out of the top. She licked it off and let the bubbles fizz on her tongue. She went over to the sofa, sat down next to Dad, crossed one leg over the other, and slurped loudly from the can.
He laughed.
“That’s not like you.”
She shot him a little smile. “Well, people can change, right?”
They sat and watched the game and she even found herself getting excited along with Dad as he barracked for his team. It used to be Dad and Pippa, shouting at the TV, both wearing their green and purple beanies and scarves, while Mum and Judith hid together upstairs, sewing, and Luke did his own thing. Poor Dad, he’d always hoped Luke would be into footie, but Luke had not been sporty at all, much to Dad’s disappointment.
Parents and kids. So many expectations. So many disappointments. Unless you just accepted each other for who you were.
She took another sip of beer and asked, “How are you feeling—about Pip’s news?”
He pursed his lips and shook his head. “You know, I’ve always suspected. Never said anything to your mum, but I often wondered…”
“You did?” She turned and looked at him, jaw slack. Dad, who always seemed oblivious to anything but building contracts and plans, who always changed the channel when anything about sex came on the TV. She hadn’t even twigged, and Dad had always suspected Pip was gay!
“We men are not as unobservant as you sometimes think.” He winked and took a swig of his beer. “But, you know, I kept my own counsel. Your mum… She’s a very reserved, private person, and doesn’t like to talk about stuff like this. I respect that because, well, you know, everything she went through… we understand each other.”
He turned his eyes back to the screen. “Oh jeesh, will you just look at that, what a waste of an opportunity!” He took another mouthful of beer. “As for you, luv,” he patted her knee, “it’s about time you stopped rescuing this family, eh?”
Judith could hardly believe her ears. This was radical. Dad had everything all worked out, every one of his children sussed, and she’d never, ever realised.
But still she had to check she’d heard right. “You think I do that?”
“Yep. Ever since you were a wee small thing.” He sighed. “You’ve always been bloody good at it. I should have stepped in and made sure you didn’t look after your mum so much, but… life was hectic and stressful in those days. No excuses, but I guess what I’m saying is, parents aren’t perfect, they make mistakes. But now, sweetheart, it’s time you put your needs first. Grab some happiness of your own.”
“Oh Dad,” Judith said, a little catch in her voice. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.”
There was the sound of footsteps upstairs, and the toilet flushed. Dad’s eyes shifted to the ceiling. “She’s awake.”
Judith got up and made for the door.
“Before you go,” Dad said, “your mum and Pip. They’re going to have to sort this out between themselves.”
“I know.”
Mum wasn’t in her bedroom, or in the spare room where she did her craft. Judith poked her head in. Everything was neatly arranged, each drawer carefully labelled, Mum’s new loom taking pride of place—she’d recently taken up weaving—the neatly twisted balls of yarn in hues of mauves and blues sitting beside it, waiting for her next project.
Instead Judith found
her sitting in Pip’s old room, on the bed.
She steeled herself. “Hi, Mum.”
Mum gave her a wan smile. “Hi darling. What are you doing here?”
“I came—” She was going to say, to see how you are, but she knew how her mum would be. “I’m here to ask you to talk to Pippa.”
Mum looked away swiftly, her features tightening. Judith went and sat next to her on the bed, and with a start realised Mum was clasping Pippa’s school photo from when she was twelve. Before the spray painting started. The excited grin, her big front teeth, the freckles, the bright halo of her hair.
Rambunctious, glorious Pippa.
Mum shook her head. “I don’t understand her. I should, shouldn’t I?” Her tone was perplexed. “A mother should understand her daughter. I understand you, but I’ve never been able to work out Pippa.” She huffed out a little laugh. “Remember when she was still no more than four, she’d jump out from behind the sofa with that purple wig on and one of those awful party whistle things and shout ‘Invasion from Mars!’ and Luke would call her the little alien. That’s how it used to feel. Like a little alien landed in our life.”
Judith smiled. “That’s Pip, that’s just how she’s made.”
“I worry about her,” Mum said quietly. “The way she wears her heart on her sleeve, opens her mouth and blurts out her whole life. She leaves herself open to people abusing her.”
“That’s not going to happen, not to Pip.”
Mum’s fingers stroked the photo. “People will turn this against her.”
Gently Judith said, “Does it bother you, her being gay?”
“No.” Mum sighed. “No, honestly, it’s not about that.” She looked at Judith out of cloudy grey eyes. “Shaz seems a lovely girl, they can do what they want to in private, but they need to know that people judge.”
“The world isn’t the one you grew up in, Mum. It’s not full of people who preach hell and damnation.”
“I think you’re wrong. I think there’s lots of horrible, cruel people out there.”
Judith took a deep breath. “If there are people who don’t accept Pip for being gay, you know what? She’ll cope with that. She’s strong.”
