‘My whole life.’
‘Wow.’
‘Yeah. Never even left, except for the odd trip.’
Sarah looked to be a similar age to Chrissie. She might have even gone to school with Drew Williams. But she couldn’t ask, it would be silly and she couldn’t risk letting others know he was here.
‘You must love it,’ Chrissie said.
‘I do, I can’t imagine living anywhere else. I mean, I could have, but we just got settled and stayed put. What made you decide to move here?’
‘My aunt left me her house when she died. I’m going to live in it for a while and get it fixed up and ready for sale.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry about your aunt. But that’s great, you wouldn’t consider staying in the house yourself?’
Live forever in the house that only reminded her of her sister’s death? No thanks.
‘No. I’ll get something else later on, maybe up in the hills, or further south.’
‘Well, all the best with the renovations. Have you got a handy hubby?’
Chrissie tipped her head back with a laugh. ‘Nope. And even when I had one he wasn’t particularly handy.’ She glanced toward Kai to make sure he couldn’t hear her.
‘Oh well, who needs ‘em? You look strong, I bet you can handle a lot of things around the house better than any guy.’ Sarah smiled.
‘Oh, I don’t know, but thanks. I’ll be getting the experts in for sure, but I will do some of it myself, like the painting, and gardening.’
‘Well, my husband’s a builder if you need one.’
‘Really? That’s good to know.’
‘And maybe Kai will give you a helping hand too.’
‘Ha, he’ll probably sit around and watch me make a mess of things!’
‘Or if he’s anything like mine, he’ll make his own mess of things.’ Sarah looked at her son who was clambering up the ladder of the slide, passing a younger child who’d barely placed one foot on the rung. ‘Sam! Hop off, please. Let the other little boy have a turn.’
Sam leapt off and landed with a crouch on the ground, the younger child watching him and then copying him by jumping off himself and giggling. The child stepped onto the ladder again then jumped off with a squeal of glee. Who needed the slide when they could make their own fun?
Kai gestured for Sam to join him in the cubbyhole that had circles cut out of it where kids peeked through and climbed in and out. ‘They seem to get along well,’ Chrissie said. ‘I’m glad he’s found a friend.’
‘Sam’s mentioned Kai before. Said he’s good at making scary faces.’ Sarah grinned.
‘Oh no, really?’ Chrissie hoped he wasn’t making faces at other kids in a menacing way.
‘Apparently. Sam showed me one but said Kai does it better. It was something like this…’ Sarah contorted her face into a demonic-like expression with wide eyes and lips stretched downwards with bottom teeth biting her top lip.
Chrissie spluttered some of her coffee and she wiped her mouth.
‘Sorry!’ Sarah said.
Chrissie waved her apologies away and wiped her mouth again. Another laugh escaped and Sarah joined in. ‘I can’t believe that’s what my son will be known by his peers for — scary faces. Oh dear God.’ Chrissie shook her head. ‘If only the teachers thought of that as a commendable skill.’
‘It probably gives them some much needed comic relief.’
So Kai was probably having some fun at school, in his own lets-see-how-much-I-can-scare-people kind of way.
‘Hey, we should get the kids together for a weekend play date sometime. What do you think?’ Sarah suggested.
‘That would be great, thanks. Kai’s been having a bit of a rough time settling into life without his father in the house, so anything to help him enjoy being here would be great.’
‘Kids are resilient beings. I’m sure he’ll be fine. So, when and where?’
Chrissie squinted, and pursed her lips as she thought. ‘Actually, I’m taking Kai to the country fair tomorrow. Would Sam like to come with us?’ That way she could keep them occupied with fun things and not risk the child getting bored around Felicia’s house, or heaven forbid, having to supervise him near the water.
‘That would be fantastic. I was thinking of taking him but I have so much to do at home I was hoping he’d forget! Isn’t that terrible? Anyway, if you’re sure that’s okay, he would love it.’
‘I’d be happy to take him along.’
‘Hey Sam!’ Sarah called. ‘How would you like to go with Kai to the country fair tomorrow?’
The child’s eyes opened wide. ‘Without you? Just me and Kai?’
‘Well, and Kai’s mum.’ She chuckled.
Kai looked at Chrissie with inquisitive eyes as if to check that this strange woman had her facts right. She nodded and he smiled.
‘Yay!’ Sam pumped a fisted hand up to the heavens. He looked at Kai. ‘What will we do first?’
Kai narrowed his brows in serious thought for a moment. ‘Pony rides. Then lucky dip.’ The children continued to discuss their itinerary for tomorrow’s Fun Day Out as they walked towards the swings.
‘I was thinking of going after lunch, say, 1 p.m.?’ Chrissie said.
‘Sounds good.’
‘I can pick him up and drop him home. What’s your address?’ Chrissie opened her bag to find a pen but Sarah plucked a card from her own purse.
‘Here are all my details. One o’clock would be great.’
Chrissie looked at the business card; it had a picture of a cartoon superwoman character on the front and the words, Sarah McAdams – mother of Sam and Gemma, and overall domestic goddess. It listed her phone numbers, email address, and home address. Mothers were supposed to have business cards these days? Chrissie looked in her bag for one of her yoga business cards but there weren’t any left, or she’d left them at work. ‘Here, I don’t have a card but I’ll write down my mobile in case of any problems.’ Chrissie scribbled on a scrap of paper and handed it to Sarah.
Maybe she should get her own personal card too? Her lips curved into a hint of a smile as she imagined what it could say: Chrissie Burns (not Mrs Cavanaugh) – stressed out mum to Kai and overall undomestic goddess. Call at own risk.
And as though sensing her thoughts, her own phone beeped with a text message. She took it from her bag and excused herself to Sarah.
Oh my God. It was from Drew.
Chapter 9
Chrissie normally deleted her text messages after they’d served their purpose; it was a symbolic way of trying to stop the past from keeping a hold on her. But this one, she decided to keep. After all, it wasn’t every day that one received a message from the singer they’d fantasised about almost twenty years ago, and still had a massive crush on.
As she unplugged her phone from its charger the next morning, she re-read the message: Hi Chrissie, just wanted to say thanks again for a great first week of yoga, and I’m enjoying the individual program you worked out for me. I even had a brainwave this afternoon during one of the meditation exercises you set for me — a new song! I’m playing around with the lyrics as we speak. Enjoy the weekend with your son, I look forward to seeing you on Monday. Until then, Adios, Sayonara, Farewell. Drew.
Chrissie laughed. She’d told him how her colleague, Damon had a propensity for cultural diversity. Chrissie wondered what Drew’s new song would be like. Would she be lucky enough to even hear a sample of his sweet singing voice face-to-face? Maybe that was too much to ask. She was there to provide a service to him, not to be entertained by someone clearly needing a break from the spotlight.
Chrissie kicked off the ballet flats she’d worn grocery shopping and replaced them with running shoes for the country fair this afternoon. She opened the dresser drawer and chose a headscarf to go with her denim capri’s and watermelon-coloured top, wrapping the white and blue patterned scarf in a thin band over her head and tying it in a knot at the nape of her neck. The ends trailed down her back, peeking through the lengths
of blonde strands, poking out a few centimetres at the bottom. She ruffled her tresses then glanced back in the open drawer. It was only a country fair, but since her work meant she could rarely wear any jewellery or accessories for the fact of them getting in the way, she opened a cardboard gift box that housed a selection of items. Her fingers rifled through the tangle of chains, hooks, and beads, until they lifted a tear-shaped pendant necklace with a vibrant pinkish stone to match her top. Something else was caught in the chain. She shook it gently but it didn’t unravel, so she picked it up and her fingers hovered near the culprit — the silver charm bracelet that had belonged to her sister. It was one of a pair, with only one half of a heart-shaped charm, but Chrissie’s bracelet with the other half had gone missing years ago. It had never seemed right to wear Danielle’s bracelet, but she’d kept it as a memento of their sisterhood. If only she hadn’t lost the other half she could store them together. It would be a way of saying they would always be together, somehow, even if only through a piece of jewellery.
Chrissie gently thread the bracelet under and over to release it from the necklace, and placed it back in the box, curled up in the corner. She’d have to sort through all of her stuff, it was still jumbled up after moving house. She hooked the necklace behind her neck and, approving her reflection in the mirror, closed the drawer and left the bedroom.
‘Kai, you ready to go?’
‘Yep, but I don’t know which hat to wear, this one or this one?’ He held up his two choices: a car racing hat and a Shrek hat. Oh dear, was she raising a little Chrissie? She wasn’t overly fussed with fashion but liked to dress in her own unique style and paid careful attention to accessorising, depending on her mood. Sometimes choosing something as simple as the colour of a top became a difficult decision. Her therapist had said it was to do with needing to feel a sense of control over our actions, and also that because our past decisions may have affected the outcome of something significant, a person would subconsciously be scared to make the wrong decision in case something bad happened again. That made sense. She’d made the wrong decision all those years ago on that terrible day and something bad did happen. Her decision-making was more thorough now. She couldn’t bear the thought of making another mistake.
‘How about the car racing one? They might even have a car ride you can go on.’
Kai popped it on his head. ‘I hope so. Mum, when am I old enough to drive?’
Chrissie laughed. What had she told Melinda, that Kai was happy being a little kid for now? Maybe that phase had come to an end. ‘You’ve got quite a few years to go yet. When you’re about seventeen or so.’
‘Seventeen?’ He raised his upper lip in disappointment. ‘But that’s way old.’
‘To you, maybe. To me? I’m more than double that age.’
Kai gasped. ‘You are?’
‘Yes, I’m thirty-seven remember?’
‘I think it’ll take me hundreds of years to get to thirty-seven.’
She laughed. ‘Well, to be exact, it’ll take you about thirty-one years, but who’s counting?’
‘You are, Mum.’
Chrissie shook her head in amusement. He was like two different children — cute and unknowingly funny on weekends and defiant and stubborn on weekdays. If only weekends lasted longer than two days.
‘Right, then. Let’s go pick up Sam, shall we?’
Fifteen minutes later Chrissie was officially responsible for the lives and wellbeing of two six-year-olds. She waved to Sarah who stood smiling on the porch of her rendered brick two-storey home. It was a great place; lots of room and open plan living, with a wonderful landscaped backyard with mature trees providing areas of shade and privacy. Her husband, the builder, must be doing alright by the looks of their living environment. Chrissie didn’t think Sarah’s casual handcrafted jewellery business would be enough to pay for such a place. Then again, she could have inherited it like Chrissie had her aunt’s place. People could think the same of her; how she could afford a beachfront property, even if it was a bit run-down, being a single mother teaching yoga classes? Although she hadn’t stayed with Felicia since Danielle’s death, she’d seen her here and there when her aunt had come to Sydney to visit. But that fateful day had driven a stake through both their lives and sense of security. Each blamed themselves; Felicia for not keeping a better eye on them, and Chrissie for leaving her sister alone, even if it was only for a few minutes.
Sam straightened up in the back seat and Chrissie eyed him in the rear-vision mirror.
‘My mum said I have to be extra good today, and if I am, she’ll give me extra ice-cream for dessert tonight. So I’m going to be extra good and you have to tell her if I am extra good, okay, Chrissie?’
She’d told him he could call her Chrissie since she was no longer Mrs Cavanaugh. And to make it even, Sarah had told Kai she could call her by her first name instead of Mrs McAdams so he didn’t feel different.
‘I will be sure to tell her,’ Chrissie said with a smile in her voice.
‘Can I have ice-cream tonight too?’ asked Kai.
‘Um, I don’t think I have any Kai, and we just went shopping today. It’ll have to wait till we need to go to the supermarket again, okay?’
‘Oh, but Sam is having some.’
‘Kai, you need to be on your best behaviour too, as we have a guest with us. And anyway, if you’re lucky I might make some choc chip cookies for dessert.’
‘Yum!’ Kai seemed happy enough with that. Kids. Food and fun were all they wanted.
Chrissie drove the chatting youngsters up into the hills, passing some impressive properties on the way that had panoramic views of the ocean in front and the rural landscape behind. The best of both worlds. If the speed limit wasn’t seventy and there weren’t cars filling the road she would have slowed down to look at some of them. She passed a property called Honeydew House and stole a glance at the long driveway swerving down to a magnificent home. It would make an ideal location for a yoga retreat. She’d have to have another squiz on the way home, and maybe take a drive next weekend when Kai was at his father’s. It’d be nice to see more of the area, get a feel for where she could move to later on. Maybe there was something already on the market, or maybe she could put an expression of interest down with a real estate agent. Honeydew House, even if it would be for sale, would probably be way too expensive, even with the large sum she knew she could get for Felicia’s house. It was possible she could get a loan, but she didn’t fancy the idea of being tied to a large mortgage if she didn’t have to be. She’d have to stay within budget and find something a bit more modest, but still with enough scope to house a few guests for her future retreats. But it was nice to dream, and driving past all the beautiful properties only inspired her to work on the beach house and prepare it for sale. It might be painful now, but the rewards would be great. She had to be patient and keep her eye on the prize.
The traffic slowed near the turn-off to the tiny township of Tarrin’s Bay Hills, and as cars filtered out, probably leaving the fair behind, more cars filtered in along with her. She passed a group of rowdy teenagers with football jerseys getting into a car. Perfect timing; as Drew had said, many locals would be off to the footy.
‘Look, Mum, a huge slide!’ Kai pointed to the right as they turned into the street alongside the reserve where the fair was held. A humungous yellow plastic slippery slide stood proud in the corner, and Chrissie spied a couple of kids slipping down the length of it, no doubt grinning all the way down. Maybe Kai would forego his strict itinerary and opt for a few slides before the pony rides.
Chrissie pulled into one of a few available parking spots and had barely put the handbrake on before the kids had unbuckled their seatbelts, clambering to get out and into the fun.
‘Whoa, hang on kids.’ Chrissie tugged on Kai’s t-shirt. ‘Here you go, keep these in your pockets. It’s got my phone number on it in case of emergencies.’ She handed them each a scrap of paper. She really should get one of those ‘mother
cards’. ‘Also, let’s organise a special spot to meet up in case — and I don’t mean it would be likely to happen — but just in case anyone gets lost.’ The reserve was large but not too expansive, but the lack of barriers surrounding it meant that it would be easy for kids to wander off. You could never be too careful.
‘How about the big slippery slide?’ Kai asked.
‘Great idea. Why don’t we head over there now, and remember, if you get lost, go straight to the slippery slide. Okay?’
‘Okay,’ they echoed.
The queue was almost as long as the slide itself, clearly the attraction of the day. Luckily, it moved quickly as it took mere seconds for someone to slide down the thing. It reminded Chrissie of cooking — spending ages preparing a meal, only to have it wolfed down in minutes. So unfair. Especially when it was met by an ‘I’m still hungry’ comment from a growing child.
‘Are you having a go too, Miss?’ asked the slide attendant, a short chubby man of about fifty.
‘Oh, um…’
‘Yes, you go too, Mum! We’ll see you at the bottom.’ Kai curled around behind her and pushed her forwards, then scooted in front of her again. Whatever happened to ladies first?
‘I guess I am,’ she said to the man.
‘Here you go.’ He handed each of them a mat to sit on. ‘Only two at a time, kids, take a spot near the red markings.’ He pointed to two places at the top of the slide. ‘Sit on the mat and lean back a little. Steve will give you a little push.’ He pointed to another man, younger, who stood at the top of the slide.
‘You ready, boys?’ Chrissie asked.
‘Yep.’ They took their places and Kai’s eyes lit up on looking down.
Whoosh! They both slid down the wavy slide, Sam tipping slightly sideways and for a moment Chrissie thought he might topple off the mat. When they reached the bottom, Steve ushered her and a child behind her to the two allocated spots.
What am I doing? It’d been years since she’d been on one of these. Maybe it would be good for her to do something fun and childlike. Maybe it was just what she needed to loosen up and deal with…
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