Unsuitable

by Ainslie Paton

  “Kids have accidents.”

  “No, last night. Audrey being so late. Does she pay you more for unplanned overtime like that?”

  They hadn’t talked about it. He supposed that was fair, but he wasn’t going to make an issue of it.

  “Reece, she’s taking advantage of you. It’s like your family all over again. I came second to your sisters and now I’m coming second to Audrey and Mia. Do you think that’s fair to me?”

  He pressed the heels of his hands against his eye sockets. “I think we should talk about it when I’ve had some sleep.”

  “Which means you’re angry with me now.”

  Sky stood in front of where he slumped on her couch. She’d changed out of work gear into yoga pants and a singlet, her hair was in a scrappy bunch at the back of her head, short pieces falling out and framing her face. He usually thought she looked beautiful like this. No make-up, no artifice. Tonight she looked hard and cold.

  “It means I’ve had a bitch of a day and I’m tired and I don’t want to argue with you.”

  “You never do want to argue with me. You never fight me on anything. I’m beginning to think you don’t care enough.”

  He sighed. “Enough for what?”

  “Enough for us to make a go of it.”

  “Why don’t you say what you mean, Sky?”

  She jammed her hands on her hips. “This job, this child care thing. You’re really committed to it.”

  “Is that a question? I don’t hear a question. It’s not a child care thing. I did a degree. You’ve known as long as I have, this is what I want.”

  “I thought you’d get tired of it in the real. I thought you’d get bored.”

  “I’m not bored. That’s a good thing.”

  “That’s a bad thing. You have no ambition, Reece. You’re this big gentle giant of a man who wants to make sandcastles and draw with crayons.”

  “And you think there’s something shameful about that?”

  She cocked her hip, she knew she was pushing it. “I don’t think there’s a future in it.”

  “So there’s no future for us?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  He stood. He never did that. He never argued with her without letting her have a position of physical strength, because when he was on his feet there was no way not to dominate her and he didn’t wanted her scared of him. “But it’s what you mean, isn’t it?”

  She took a step away. “I’m not being the bad guy, Reece. You only moved in because I nagged you to. If you want out of here, out of us, you have to call it.”

  “I’m not calling it anything but a fight when I’m too tired to make sense.” He reached for her and she stepped in closer. She smelled of spices and chilli powder. She liked it when he got riled up.

  They didn’t watch the movie. Reece took Sky to bed and the sex was hot and angry. He wanted her body but he didn’t want to kiss her lips, he didn’t want to talk to her. He didn’t want to change for her, but he showed her what that would be like; if he dominated, if he lacked gentleness. He made her cry out for him. He made her want. He took what he wanted from her with a lot less consideration than she was used to. There was nothing indecisive or lacking in ambition in the way he made her come over and over, crying out and shuddering. She loved it. It made him feel dirty. She wanted to cuddle and he didn’t care, let her sprawl on him but didn’t hold her. She fell asleep quickly.

  He lay there thinking about how to do this. How to be a man who wanted to work in a woman’s world where he wasn’t trusted. How to be a man who had a thing for his employer.

  How to leave Sky without it hurting either of them too much.

  12: One Time Only

  Audrey tuned in for Wiggle time and there was no one there to make her smile. She sat at her desk and looked at her empty lounge room. She’d only wanted to watch them for a few minutes. To see Mia giggle and do her beetle impression that looked like a starfish, or her horse impression that looked like a rabbit. To see Reece laugh, to see him loose and easy and comfortable again.

  After the drop-dead awkwardness of Friday night, she’d spent most of the weekend wanting to call him. Wanting to hear his voice, to bluff until they were relating normally again, instead of avoiding his eyes, dodging his presence.

  It was surprisingly easy to block him out if she focused on Mia and everything that was wrong with wanting a deeper connection with her attractive male child-carer. It made her cold and off-hand with him this morning as well. He’d arrived early and clearly wanted to talk, but she’d brushed him off and made an escape. Now she felt miserable about that. But then she was so tired, more than normal, and she’d not been able to shake it off though she’d tried. She’d slept and slept on Saturday afternoon while Mia went to the zoo with Merrill and Joe. That should’ve been enough, but her energy flagged so low it was an effort to keep her head up. She rubbed the back of her neck, it was so tight. She thought about having Reece’s fingers on her skin again and shivered, but she’d been shivery and heavy-headed all morning.

  It was a beautiful day, so they’d probably gone to the park, or the beach. Mia had been so happy to see Reece this morning, she’d practically climbed his legs when he walked in.

  Tonight she’d talk to him. Be normal with him. If she could be normal, they could go on as they had before and nothing would need to change.

  She jumped when Les spoke. “You look awful, Aud.”

  She pulled a tissue from the box on her desk and blew her nose. “I’m fine.”

  “If that’s you looking fine, I’d hate to see you when you’re at death’s door.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I guess civility would be too much to ask. You snapped at me all Friday as well. If you’re not sick, you could lighten up.”

  Audrey sagged. “Sorry. I’m out of sorts.”

  “No kidding.” Les lent on the doorjamb. “Anyway, the Project Maverick meeting is off.”

  “What do you mean off?”

  Les pulled a face. “As in not on. Not happening this week at all. You are sick, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Something.”

  “Something. Mia?”

  “She’s great.”

  “Is it that douchebag in accounts hitting on you again?”

  “No. I’m tired, that’s all.”

  “Reece?” Les read her hesitation. “Oh no, what’s he done?”

  She tried for a recovery, “No one has done anything. I just need more sleep,” and achieved irritation.

  “If you say so. If you ask me—”

  “I’m not.”

  “—You should go home before you snap at someone whose not as fantastically well balanced and robust of ego as me.”

  “You, a robust ego. Don’t make me laugh.”

  Les rolled her eyes. “A laugh might improve you.”

  Audrey stood. She’d get coffee, that would help. “It’s severe Mondayitis.”

  But it wasn’t. Coffee didn’t help. She couldn’t face food at lunch. She zoned out entirely during a meeting on building code regulation changes. At 3pm she admitted defeat. She felt terrible. Not sick exactly, but not well enough to last the day out productively either. She was better off going home and getting extra sleep and catching up tomorrow. And that was the plan.

  She rang Reece from the car. He answered after some fumbling during which she could hear ambient outdoor sound, birds and Mia giggling.

  “Hi,” he said. Just that one word and she felt a little lighter, better. “We’re at the beach.” His voice faded but she heard, speak to Mum, and she got Mia.

  “Guess where I am?”

  “The beach.”

  “Guess again.” Mia didn’t wait. “I’m up way, way high and I can see all over the whole wide world.”

  “You must be very high.”

  “Birds nearly land on me. I’m on Reece’s shoulders. I’m going to stay here forever. It’s very comfortable.”

  Audrey
laughed. Whole sentences. Mia had been slower than some of the other kids to talk and when she’d started it was single words and single sentences for a long time. She was having a conversation with her baby and those were tears that pricked her eyes.

  “Reece might get tired.”

  “He never will get tired.” Her voice got faint. “Will you get tired?” She was asking him. “No he won’t. I’m holding on his hair.”

  She had an overwhelming urge to see Mia atop Reece’s shoulders. She changed lanes. It would be easy to park at the beach at this end of a work day. She could tell Reece her plan in person. “I hope Reece is holding on to you.”

  “He won’t drop me. Ever. Never. I had a babycino.”

  “Are you on the walkway or the sand?” She’d find them quicker if she knew where they were.

  “We’re where a black dog is.”

  She snagged a park and got out of the car. “Near where, honey?”

  “We’re at the south end near the sandwich shop. Are you somewhere near?” Reece had the phone now.

  “I just parked near the playground.” She looked left from where she was standing. It was so bright she squinted despite her sunglasses. She could see them in the distance. “I’ve got you. I’ll walk towards you.” She hung up. She saw Reece turn and start towards her and like Mia, she saw the whole wide world through eyes too sensitive, and a bundle of emotions too raw from exhaustion to be real.

  Reece wore knee length surf shorts and runners, a white t-shirt that fitted close to his form, and Mia wore her gumboots, a red t and overall shorts. No fairy dress. She had a handful of Reece’s dark hair. Both of his big hands were over her knees. He had her scooter tucked under his arm and a bag over his shoulder.

  Mia was chatting away, looking around. She hadn’t spotted Audrey. But all Audrey could see was her baby girl, her hope, her dream, her life coming towards her, Mia’s dark curls bouncing under the brim of her sun hat, one hand occasionally leaving Reece’s head to point something out to him.

  Here was Mia at three and a half, health, happy and learning daily. It was all she’d wanted when she’d brought her home, a strange little alien who could do nothing for herself except demand and poop, who spoke a language Audrey never quite understood. Maybe until right at this moment.

  Reece passed as Mia’s father. Their colouring was the same, though he was tanned a golden colour and he’d taken good care to keep Mia well covered from the sun. For a moment Audrey imagined they both belonged to her, without a job description and a salary getting in the way. For the moment she imagined they were a proper family meeting up after time apart. That they’d go home together and tend to Mia and when she slept there’d be time for just the adults. To talk. To touch. To be each other’s ease.

  It was such a foreign thought. She didn’t go into motherhood thinking she’d regret the lack of a partner in anything but an intellectual way. She’d spent no time wishing she had someone to share the parenting burden with because she’d organised her life around managing for Mia’s best interests. But this was different, this wasn’t about wishing there was someone else to help with Mia. This was wishing there was someone else who cared for her, and wishing that someone was Reece.

  She walked towards her daughter and her daughter’s carer and the deep fatigue she felt dropped away. Reece was grinning, looking right at her. He spoke to Mia and she started waving frantically. Audrey quickened her pace and Reece spurred his. Mia called, “Mum. Mum. Look at me. I’m on top of the world.” She let go of Reece and flung her arms out wide in a parody of the scene from Titanic he must’ve taught her.

  They were only a dozen or so paces apart now. Reece carried Mia so easily and she looked so tiny against his bulk, she might’ve been scared of being that high. Audrey might’ve been scared of seeing her perched that way, but for the laughter and the joy it brought her tired soul. She walked right into Reece’s space and put her hands to the top of Mia’s boots, curling her fingers inside their edge. “Hello Mia.”

  “I’m very high.”

  “You are.” She dropped her eyes from Mia to Reece. His face was flushed. Sunburn maybe. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  Audrey took a deep breath. She let go of Mia’s boots. She should step away. She was standing too close. It was very hot out here and very bright. “She’s heavy enough to give you a neck ache. You should have a hat on.”

  “Nah.” He gave a little jump to jostle Mia and she shrieked and pulled his hair making him grimace, then he turned sideways so she could see his cap tucked in the waist of his boardies. “Hair is better to hold on to.”

  Oh God, she had already imagined Reece’s hair under her fingers.

  “I am holding on,” said Mia.

  Audrey reached for the top edge of Reece’s cap and pulled it out of his shorts. She unfolded it. The fabric was warm from his body. She took the scooter out from under his arm. He was perfectly capable of putting his own cap on. But he knew what she wanted to do. He took his hands off Mia’s knees and held them above his head so she could take them. He ducked his head and Audrey slid the cap over his thick, dark hair. He smelled of sunscreen and saltwater and something else she couldn’t pick. When he lifted his head she was grateful both of them had sunglasses on. She didn’t dare read his eyes.

  “Want to ride?” he said, and without giving Mia a chance to protest he took her under the arms and lifted her over his head. She squealed as he swung her to the ground then made a happy grab for her scooter. He swapped her hat for her helmet. “Only to the playground, no further.” Mia took off, too fast.

  “She’s going—”

  “She’s fine. They all ride like that, like they’re drunk.”

  She watched Mia weave up the path. She stopped, looked back at them, started again. Audrey frowned. Why didn’t she know this was how Mia rode, erratic, dangerous in a crowd? Not that there was any danger now, they had the path to themselves.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes.” She coughed, her throat was so dry. She didn’t want to admit she felt strange. “A meeting got cancelled. Gave myself an early mark.”

  Reece took hold of her arm. “Audrey, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, it’s hot. I’m not dressed for the beach.”

  “All the colour dropped out of your face.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He let go her arm, but stared at her. “You’re not fine.”

  “I’ve got a bit of a headache, that’s all. I’m tired. An early night is all I need.”

  “Ah. Well, Mia should be tuckered. She’s been on the go all day and she did well at her swimming lesson this morning. I could stay and get her to bed for you.”

  She frowned. How could she have forgotten about the swimming lesson? That’s why there was no Wiggle time. That’s what Reece would have wanted to talk about this morning. What was wrong with her? “How did it go?”

  “She’s not scared of the water, which is a good start. Today was all about splashing. Tomorrow it’s bubble blowing. And you know what? I’m going to fight you about putting her to bed. It’s no trouble.”

  She laughed unexpectedly. “I can’t picture you ever fighting with anyone. I don’t think I’ve met anyone with as even and steady a temperament as you. You can put her to bed if you let me buy us an early dinner. Fish and chips on the beach.”

  “Don’t confuse me with a better man.”

  He walked ahead. She didn’t follow. He’d sounded bitter and she hadn’t expected that. He was pushing Mia on a swing when she caught up with them. She sat on a park bench in the shade and watched them, wondering what she’d said to make Reece react that way. Mia soon tired of the swing and headed for the slide. Reece sat beside her on the bench. They had the playground to themselves.

  “I said something to upset you.”

  He shook his head. “No.” He took his cap off and scrubbed at his hair. “I spent all weekend fighting with Sky. We broke up. I moved out.”

  “Oh, Reec
e, I’m sorry.”

  “It was the right thing to do.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Hah. No.”

  Mia ran around for her umpteenth turn on the slide. There was usually a queue of kids and she had to wait her turn. She loved this, but she was making Audrey dizzy. “I’m here if you do.”

  “You’re my employer.”

  That stung and it shouldn’t have. Because there shouldn’t have been any fantasies associated with Reece that suggested she was more, that suggested they were more. There shouldn’t be the desire to lean slightly sideways and rest against his arm, and pretend he might put it around her and hold her up.

  “Do you ever think about having another kid?”

  She’d wondered when he’d ask that. It was a basic job security question after all. “I figure I pushed my luck with one.”

  “Why?”

  “Assuming I could talk Mia’s surrogate dad into doing it again, or find another appropriate donor, I’d need to take maternity leave again, I’d miss out at work, again.”

  “And work’s more important to you?”

  There was the bitter tone again. “You’re mad with me.” It was astonishing, but he was.

  He sighed. “Sorry. She’s a great kid. You’re a great mother. I’m being unfair.”

  “I’m an absent mother and there’s no guarantee a second kid wouldn’t be a little shit. It’s enough that I do what I can to make sure Mia stays a great kid, and having a good job to fund that is part of it, and yes, I like to work.”

  Mia waved from the top of the slide and Audrey waved back. “As mad as my job can make me at times, as much as I worry about missing out on time with her, I’d go insane without it. I know that’s not considered normal. It’s the reason my parents don’t want anything to do with us. That’s their call. And I’m okay with all of that.”

  He bumped her with his shoulder. “I’m okay with it too.”

  She smiled and bumped him back. “So why’d you poke the bear?”

  “To prove I’m not such a nice guy.”

  “What happens if I tell you that didn’t work?”

  He grinned at his feet. “I’ll have to try harder.”