by Shona Husk
And there were no chicks.
And Dan was lousy company.
In the morning he left Dan a note to clean the place up or he’d start charging him rent. Then he pulled his pushbike out. He hadn’t done any real riding in a year. Zipping around the corner or to Ed’s place didn’t count.
He should be able to make it to the hospice though. He’d ridden between his flat and his mother’s place many times before and the hospice was closer. He grabbed his belly. He wasn’t as fit as he had been. Too much beer.
If he couldn’t make it he could always admit defeat and get on a bus. Even as he thought it he knew that was never going to happen. He’d do the ride even if it meant he was throwing his guts up all the way home.
He tossed a clean shirt in a backpack, along with a drink bottle, and headed out.
The heatwave had broken and the morning was blessedly cool. For the first ten minutes he actually enjoyed the ride, the breeze on his face and the lack of traffic on the road. He remembered why he liked riding.
He didn’t even care the Lycra-clad riders were whipping past him. He wasn’t going for speed, he just needed something to do. Sitting around his mother’s house was depressing. He didn’t know what to do. She’d talked about selling it. He couldn’t face that. It was stupid, but losing the house and his mother was too much.
He needed to do something though, as he was paying his mother’s mortgage as well as his own and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep working once they went over east again. The only reason he could pick up work was because he’d kept in contact with his old boss and the demand for electricians was high.
Something needed to break, or he would.
Knowing that and knowing what to do were two very different things.
In short he was fucked, and not in the fun way.
At least by staying in he hadn’t woken up somewhere strange and with that seedy feeling in the pit of his stomach. All he had was a slight hangover that wasn’t improving with the ride, as it was making him realise how clouded his head was. And his thighs were on fire. His calves soon joined the party.
If he stopped for a stretch, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get going again.
So he pushed on, only stopping when he reach the park near the hospice, where he threw up before stretching and having a drink and laying on the grass like he was dying.
He was never going to be able to walk again … his head would explode before that became a problem.
He should’ve admitted he wasn’t fit enough for this about five kilometres ago.
Half measures were for sensible people who had things to risk.
His stomach heaved again but he sipped the water and stayed immobile on the grass until he felt slightly better. Some women walked through the park, pushing prams and talking. A dog ran over to sniff him.
The owner peered at him. ‘Are you all right?’
Mike glanced at the older man. ‘Yeah. Just pushed too hard.’ His bike was on the ground next to him, and he was going to make himself ride home too.
‘The joy of youth.’ He called his dog and walked away.
Mike forced himself to sit up. His shirt clung to his back with sweat, and while he knew his mother wouldn’t care—she’d probably be glad to see him riding again—he felt grotty. He should’ve gone surfing with Ed … but he didn’t want to talk about music or his mother or anything. When he rode he was on his own.
A tiny part of him knew he was pushing people away but he didn’t know where to start, or what to say, and it was just one more thing he didn’t know how to deal with. Last time it had been about the fight and survival, people had rallied around him and his mother. This felt different.
It was different.
He stood up, pulled off his shirt and gave himself a wipe, sprayed on deodorant so he didn’t smell like an armpit then slipped on his clean shirt. He put his helmet back on because it would be just his luck to get a fine in the hundred metres he had to travel. And even though his legs protested, he rode up to the hospice and chained his bike up. He had no idea how he was going to get home … just thinking about it hurt.
He ran his fingers through his hair even though he knew it was a lost cause, clipped his helmet to his bag, and went in.
The building was so quiet he had to double-check it was visiting hours. It was, and he walked to his mother’s room. She was lying down, eyes closed as she listened to an audio book. He stood there, not sure if she was sleeping or awake.
She didn’t move and he couldn’t wake her.
The young Indian nurse glanced at him as she walked past, then stopped. She peered into the room then took his arm. ‘The doctor changed her pain medication. It’s making her sleepy.’
‘Pain?’
He couldn’t remember the nurse’s name so he scanned her name tag. Ava. He tried really hard not to think about the first thoughts he’d had about her. She’d be horrified.
‘For the headaches.’ Ava explained, but her tone suggested that she should be aware of all of this.
Headaches, right. She’d been taking something but he hadn’t realised it was that bad. ‘Can I go in?’
‘Sure, she’s just drowsy as she gets used to it. There’s always a trade-off.’
Mike stood there, not sure what to do. Ava’s gaze skimmed over him. ‘Do you ride?’
He nodded.
‘Me too. Not as often as I should.’
He wasn’t about to admit to nearly killing himself on the way over.
‘Why don’t you grab a coffee or something from the cafeteria, okay? I’m sure your mum will be up soon.’ She smiled.
Mike made his lips move into something close to a smile. She was being nice. The edge she’d had the first time had melted away.
He went to the cafeteria and paid for coffee and a bacon and egg burger, which he knew he was going to regret before he got home. Wherever home was. If he rode to his mother’s house he should make it, but his car was at the flat.
It was too much of a decision to make.
Chapter 4
Ava went to the cafeteria on her break. Mike was still sitting there. He was the only family member to come and visit Irene, and the only one she spoke about. An electrician who’d given up the chance to go to ADFA to look after his mum. Her first impression had been way off. Now he looked lost. It wasn’t easy for a guy over six foot to be lost. He couldn’t hide in a crowd if he wanted to.
He wasn’t memorable just because of his height. He was scruffy but spoke well. It was as though he’d just returned from being out bush or something … he had a wild look in his eyes. But right now he seemed more like a wild animal that had been caught and captured and was looking the worse for wear.
She grabbed a cup of tea and sat down opposite him. He blinked and registered her presence.
His coffee was only half drunk and an almost empty bottle of water sat on the table.
‘I’m on a break and you looked like you could use the company.’ He could tell her to leave, but he didn’t. ‘Irene has talked a lot about you.’
‘Only child.’
She’d suspected that. ‘Do you have family you can talk to?’
He shook his head. His dark blond hair bouncing. ‘I haven’t seen my father in twenty years. My maternal grandparents are dead.’
‘Aunts?’
‘England. Mum came over because she’d met Dad. They married, had me, he left and she decided to stay.’
‘Has your mother told your aunts?’ How much had she left Mike to deal with? Irene didn’t seem like the kind of woman to forget things. She was closing down her life bit by bit.
‘Yeah. They can’t afford to come over. But they’ve been talking.’
‘And you?’
‘Me?’ He frowned.
‘Who have you been talking to?’
‘I’m fine.’
He was not fine. That was clear, but then she was used to seeing people try and be fine. She was going to have to change tack. ‘Would you li
ke to make an appointment to talk to the doctor with your mother about her treatment?’
‘She will do what she wants, what she needs to.’ His teeth raked his lip and she noticed the metal. He had a lip ring that was almost hidden by his caveman beard.
Ava sipped her tea and thought for a moment. ‘It might be best for you to be involved as there may come a time—’
His glare cut her off. She’d hit a nerve, a very sensitive one.
Time to change subject.
‘Where did you ride from?’ Before she’d had a car, her pushbike had been her freedom. A way to escape the house and meet her friends. Even on her days off, the excuse of going for a ride bought a few hours, or even half a day, to herself.
It would be nice to live riding distance from work, but she wasn’t sure she could afford it. Not on her own anyway.
He took a sip of water. ‘Why are you doing this?’
‘Talking to you?’
He nodded.
‘Maybe I wanted to find out more about you.’
He gave a choked laugh. ‘You don’t want to do that.’
‘Hiding a dark secret?’ She sipped her tea to hide her smile.
‘I’m not in a good place.’
‘No one is when they come here.’
He looked away. ‘How do you do it?’
She knew plenty of nurses would try to avoid her job. ‘Not everyone here is dying. Some recover. For those who are dying, I make sure their remaining time is comfortable and as good as it can be.’
She’d made someone else’s day better by turning up. People were glad to see her. She wasn’t a burden or an ungrateful girl. Here she was just Ava and she made a difference. And while some days broke her heart, she knew that life would go on.
She checked her watch. She needed to get moving. ‘If you need to talk …’
He glanced up at her and for a moment she thought she’d overstepped.
Then he smiled. ‘I rode from East Fremantle … not sure I have the energy to get home.’
‘It’s not that far.’
‘It is when you haven’t ridden for a while.’ He stood and picked up his bag. Her heart might have done a little flip that was totally inappropriate. But he was tall, she might reach his chin on a good day, and he smelled nice. Not clean nice, but like a man. A little sweaty and a little like deodorant.
He was, she decided, just a little bit feral in a good way. In all the right ways. What a pity she had no lights that needed fixing.
She needed to get a place with busted electrics just so he could come around and fix them up.
It was so wrong to even be having those thoughts about him.
He probably wasn’t even looking past her uniform.
‘Did you want to give me your number?’ There was a glint in his brown eyes and the wild animal suddenly didn’t seem so safe to be around.
‘Huh?’ Her thoughts derailed, rolled over and burst into flames. How had he known what she was thinking?
‘So we can talk.’
When he said talk, she wasn’t entirely sure that he meant talk.
She was almost about to say no, that they could talk here, but she changed her mind at the last second and her number tumbled out of her mouth.
***
After spending time with his mum, Mike made himself get on the bike. The short ride to his mother’s empty house was abominable. Everything hurt. And not even the knowledge that he’d got the cute nurse’s number came close to making up for it.
It was also completely wrong to have even asked for her number. That was not something he was used to feeling, but he couldn’t exactly call her and apologise for hitting on her. She’d been being nice and he’d done the wrong thing.
Yeah, but she could’ve said no and she hadn’t.
Right now, he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant.
He showered, put on the laundry and rattled around the house. His mother had packed up or gotten rid of heaps. At first he hadn’t noticed, but he had after she’d told him. Boxes of clothes had gone to charity. Things she didn’t think he’d want had also vanished.
He’d had to stop her.
In one box were wedding presents that she’d put away after his father had walked out and never looked back. Not even to bother with a divorce. She’d done that when she’d been sick last time, so that if she died his father wouldn’t get anything. Last he’d heard his father was in Darwin. He’d made no effort to learn more. The man couldn’t be bothered to even pick up the phone to call his kid and Mike didn’t need a father. He’d got along just fine without one.
He stood in the doorway to his room. The other bedroom had been set up as a study; once his drum kit and piano had been in there. These days the piano was in the living room, collecting dust.
He walked down the hallway and opened up the other bedroom door. This is where she’d put the boxes of other bits and pieces, as if she expected him to walk in and throw everything away. He pressed his lips together and went to the front of the house and the master suite.
The bed was stripped bare. The pillows and blankets neatly folded. Today he could look at it without feeling gutted.
She knew she wasn’t coming back.
He had to suck it up and make a plan before he lost everything because he couldn’t make the payments.
His mother had suggested renting out the house.
That was probably the smartest thing to do. His mother had taken what superannuation she had—and wasn’t using on her care—to reduce the mortgage. It wasn’t enough. And while the mortgage on his place wasn’t much either, combined they were going to be too much for him on his own, especially on what he made from Selling the Sun.
He stepped back and shut the door. His mother had wanted to sell the house, but that was something he wasn’t ready to think about. It felt too much like she was being erased from his life.
That left his flat. His only link to his maternal grandparents. He’d met them a few times and had been surprised that they’d left him something. They’d left money for all the grandchildren, but not their three children. He was loath to sell the flat. He’d bought it at a good price and it was in a good location and if it was rented out at full price, he’d make a bit.
But that would mean turfing Dan out, and Dan had nowhere else to go because Lisa had kept their place.
He needed to talk to Dan … and get a lift back to East Fremantle so he could get his car.
Was there any point in him living here now that his mum no longer needed his help?
He knew the answer. No. However, he didn’t want to share the flat with Dan. Dan was a slob and there was only one bedroom.
He called Dan, hoping for a lift, if not a solution. ‘Hey, can you pick me up?’
‘That depends on where you are.’
‘Mum’s.’ If he got back to the flat and it was a pigsty, he was going to be pissed. No, he was going to throw Dan out. It was one thing to help a friend, but what Dan was doing was abusing the friendship.
‘Sure. Give me a few, okay?’
‘No worries.’ He wasn’t in a rush and had nowhere to be.
‘Did you want to head out, Sunday session?’
It was tempting, very tempting. ‘Yeah okay. Just for a couple. Some of us have to work tomorrow.’ God, he hated saying that. He didn’t want to be crawling around roof spaces and installing lights. His old boss had offered work, but it wasn’t the good jobs.
No one wanted to be in the roof during summer. It was hot, full of spiders and insulation itched. Plus he was just too damn tall. It was the only time he hated being tall.
Dan laughed. ‘I’ll rope the others in.’
Good luck with that.
Ed was too busy enjoying having a girlfriend. While the girls Mike had been with lately usually didn’t bother asking his name, he was no better. Unless he took a different path he wouldn’t do any better. However, at the moment he had other things to worry about and at least getting laid was easy.
An hour later Dan picked him up. Mike got in the car—Dan had the nicest car out of all of them because his parents had bought it for him when he got his licence. They’d hoped that a carrot instead of a stick would work better in getting Dan to fall in line. It hadn’t. Dan had grabbed the carrot, the stick, and the watch off the hand holding it.
But he’d only been suspended from school once after getting the car—he’d been expelled from two private schools previously and was welcome at none. They’d met at the local public school as Dan slummed it to graduate.
The car smelled like the ever-present mint chewing gum and beer … and something else. Rum?
Mike glanced behind the front seats and saw the collection of empty cans. ‘Man, if you get pulled over they will nail you for DUI because of the rubbish.’
Dan shrugged. ‘They can’t do that. I’d pass the breath test.’
‘Have you been drinking? Lift up your sunglasses.’ Mike reached over and Dan slapped his hand away.
‘I had one while I was being your bitch.’
‘You mean cleaning up your mess in my place.’ Mike successfully snatched Dan’s sunglasses away. His eyes were bloodshot. The gum was covering the smell of alcohol.
‘Just one?’
‘Maybe two. You’re not my fucking father so quit riding my ass.’
‘Get out. I’m driving.’ While he’d seen Dan with a beer in his hand more frequently since the break-up, Mike had never stopped to think it might be more than just a few drinks. If he looked too hard at what Dan was drinking, he might have to look at how he was behaving, and that was a very unflattering picture.
Dan didn’t move. ‘I’m fine. I’m not drunk. Stop being a baby.’
‘My life. And right now my mother doesn’t need me involved in a dumb accident. Fuck Dan, pull it together. Lisa was a silly bitch who played you at the best of times.’
Dan slapped the steering wheel and swore, but he got out of the car. Mike did the same. They met in front of the hood. Neither stepping aside.
‘Don’t talk about Lisa like that,’ Dan snarled.
