Unsuitable

by Ainslie Paton

  Polly picked up his tool bag and shoved it in the back of his ute. “Reece?”

  He followed Polly to the kerb. He felt lost. He still felt gut sick, anxious about Mia, rocked about Audrey. He knew he wouldn’t feel right till he learned she was awake and issuing instructions again. And it was the middle of the day. What was he supposed to do without Mia?

  “I might’ve fucked up.”

  “With the kid? No way. So what’d you do to Audrey?”

  For a guy who had trouble accepting Reece preferred building with Lego to building houses, Polly was a good mate. When Reece had shown up with a bag of clothes, his pillow and assorted possessions after the bust up with Sky, he hadn’t said a word about it. Just thrown a couple of sheets at him and asked for help moving the massive TV screen out of the spare bedroom.

  “I kissed her.”

  “Like, on the forehead?”

  Why did everyone go there first? Why was it such a leap to think he’d want to have Audrey’s mouth all over him, his all over every pore of her silk soft skin? He shook his head.

  “Fucking hell, Reece.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you going to get sick?”

  “What? No. Maybe. I dunno. I’ve got to take antibiotics. Precautionary.”

  Polly weighted that. He leant against the cab of the ute. “So you kissed your boss. Heavy.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How was it?”

  “I’m not talking about it.”

  “Yeah you are, unless you want to go home to Charlie and chuck Etta out of your old room.”

  Reece grunted, braced both hands on the side of the ute. It was full of broken bits of the old door. He was full of chopped up feelings; sharp, angular, awkward, useless.

  “Jesus. It was. Man, I.” Polly laughed and he hung his head. “Make out session of my life.”

  “No kidding?”

  “You’ve seen Audrey, you know she’s hot, but it’s more than that. Objectively Sky was hotter.”

  “Oh shit, no you don’t.”

  He knew what Polly meant. No, he couldn’t have a serious thing for Audrey. It had to be confused, crapped up with leaving Sky. It had to be proximity or some other weird science. Except it wasn’t. He’d never felt for Sky what he felt for Audrey.

  The best parts of his day were when she raced past him in the mornings with a bunch of quick commands; crisp, official, tailored and severe, smelling of exotic scents, untouchable Ms Bates, with her hair so smooth and her makeup perfect. And when she staggered home at night, her hair loosened, wisps about her face, lips pale, feet hurting in her heels, a little worn but softer, calmer, more open. Turning to him for news of the day, for updates on Mia, for conversation that wasn’t about deadlines or milestones or office politics, unless it was about an appointment for Mia, or a new thing she’d learned, or gossip from playgroup.

  With him, Audrey relaxed. She untucked, went barefoot, unpinned her hair. She laughed. She told him about her day, or waved it off to focus on his. She was home, and he was part of that comfort, and maybe it was that he loved, the way their different worlds came together so easily without judgement. But he was drawn to her. He’d kissed her like she was a new experiment in sensation, forbidden and familiar at the same time. He’d held her pressed against him, had her pulse thud under his fingers, and her tongue in his mouth and that, just that, chaste, no buttons undone, no flesh exposed, no hands anywhere too intimate made him want her like he’d never wanted any other women he’d kissed.

  And she’d thanked him for reminding her how it was done so she could do it with someone else.

  And she was so ill she might die.

  Polly laughed. “If you could see your face.”

  “I screwed up.” He’d read too much into it, made too much out of it. And now it looked worse than it was to a group of people who had Audrey and Mia’s best interests at heart. “And she’s so fucking sick, Pol.”

  A slap on his back. “Buying you lunch.”

  He had nothing else to do and Polly wasn’t in a hurry to get to the rest of his day. They ate. They shot the shit about stuff. Polly did all the work. Reece let him natter on and barely listened while he thought about all the ways he could’ve been smarter about Audrey, all the ways life would change without her. He tuned in when Polly mentioned Les.

  “What’s Les’ story then?”

  “Lawyer, works with Audrey. A friend. She was the only one I could think of to phone at Audrey’s work this morning.”

  “What else?”

  “Why do you care?”

  Polly gulped the last of his ice water. “I like her.”

  Reece stopped looking at the wall of liquor and looked at Polly. “You like Les. She’s not a pole dancer, a fitness trainer, a jockey or a cop.”

  “Say it.”

  “That she’s out of your league? That she’d eat you for breakfast? That she did?”

  “That she’s fat.”

  “Yeah, she’s heavy.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Me neither. Maybe I like her because she’s not a pole dancer, a fitness trainer, a jockey, or a cop. That jockey girl was hot, but she always smelled like horse. Les is not like any woman I’ve ever dated.”

  “You’re not going to date Les.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t think she’d spit on you if you were on fire.”

  Polly rubbed his jaw. “This morning she might’ve set me on fire.” He grinned. “Man, she hated my very breathing presence.”

  “You’re only interested because you can’t work her out. That’s the thing with you, soon as you work them out, you’re bored.”

  “Anything wrong with that?”

  Was there? Is that what had happened with him and Sky? The minute he’d had all of her he’d gotten bored? Did he only want Audrey because she was different?

  Polly slapped his shoulder. “Relationship advice from you right now is a land mine, mate.”

  Reece put his forehead down on the bar and groaned. Polly paid up and left him to wallow. He got a text from Merrill saying Audrey was responding to treatment but was still critical and they’d not been able to see her. That was better news. That was hope.

  He had nowhere else to go. He went home to Charlie’s, found dishes in the sink and washed up. Hung clothes out to dry, put a load of washing on, got rid of a head of lettuce a day off jelly in the crisper. Then he scared the bejesus out of Etta, and that almost made things bearable.

  She was home too early for school to be out. She had a packet of fags in her hand. She wasn’t expecting the front door to be open or him to be standing on the verandah with a broom. She saw the open door first and hesitated. Her feet left the path in surprise and she shoved the fags into a pocket when she saw him. “What are you doing here, you freak?”

  “Not jigging school. Not fucking up my lungs.”

  “I’m not—”

  “A very good liar.”

  “I’m not jigging. We had a free period. I chose to have it at home. The cigs aren’t mine.”

  “Are they Gin’s, because lung tar is what she needs in her life?”

  “Cute. They’re for a friend.”

  “Which is why you had to hide them.” He leant the broom on the side of the house and held out a hand. “And the friend won’t mind if I have one.”

  “They’re not. What? You?”

  “I’ve had the worst day, Ett, play nice.”

  She held the pack out to him. He broke the seal and took one, raised his brows at her. “Friend got a light?”

  She took the packet, put a stick in her mouth and fished a lighter from her pocket. She lit up and blew smoke at him.

  “Didn’t know you smoked.” She tossed the lighter at him.

  He caught it and lit up. “Didn’t know you did.” He had to hold in a cough, the smoke curling in the back of his throat, teasing his lungs.

  Etta smoked like she was one of those ol
d blokes with yellow fingertips. She shrugged. Too cool. At Etta’s age he’d had responsibilities. It was only later he’d thought he was invincible.

  She sat on the step. “I never take them inside the house.”

  He sat beside her. “Smart.”

  “I’m not a doofus. I know you think I am.”

  “Your body, Ett. You can do what you want with it. But you only get the one.” She blew smoke at him. Charlie had to know she was doing this. The smell would be in Etta’s clothes.

  “And for a tinsy minute I thought you were going to be rad and not act like my fricking father. What’s with your worst day ever anyway?”

  “Audrey has meningitis. She’s in hospital.”

  Etta leant away. “Oo, are you like contagious?”

  He held smoke in his lungs. Maybe he was. Maybe somewhere inside his body he was brewing those germs that might still kill Audrey. It was impossible to believe they could kill him too. He shook his head.

  “Far out. What about Mia?”

  “She’s fine. Audrey’s friends are looking after her.”

  “Instead of you.”

  He took another drag and coughed.

  “Is Audrey going to be all right?”

  “I don’t know.” He stubbed his fag out on the brickwork and flicked the butt into the garden.

  “Hey.” She rammed her elbow in his hip. “You made us weed that.”

  “Charlie would know you’re smoking.”

  “No way.” She blew a fucking smoke ring.

  “She’d know.”

  “Then she’d be all over me.”

  “Maybe not. Think about it.”

  “Reverse psychology.” Etta looked at the tip of her fag. “Do you think I’m addicted yet?”

  “Do you think having an addiction is cool?” He could tell by the way she waited for his response, half ready to leap down his throat if he said the wrong thing, that she did think it was cool. Fucking hell. He didn’t know what the right thing to say was.

  “What else are you doing you shouldn’t be doing, Ett?”

  She took a another drag, let it out on a lazy sigh. “Meaning?”

  He ticked them off on his fingers. “Detention. Dope. Drugs. Dudes.” Shit, he could play for shocks too. “Dudettes?”

  “Are you asking if I’m a virgin?” Ice, she was too scary cool.

  “I’m asking if you’re fucking up your life.” Like he’d once very nearly fucked his up. “My boss nearly died today. I did a stupid thing last night and forgot my keys, so I couldn’t get in the house. I had to break the door down. If it’d been the weekend, she could be dead already.”

  “None of that is on me.”

  “No, but shit, Etta. Are you fucking up?”

  She flicked her butt into the garden too. “Not at school. I’m good there. I smoked dope. It was foul. I threw up everywhere. It was so embarrassing.” She waited to see what he’d say but he knew there was more. “I want to do other drugs. Everyone does. I want to try them, but I am scared of getting addicted.”

  She was scared, but only in that it wouldn’t happen to me, I’m smarter than that way you could be at sixteen.

  “Charlie would put you on the street before that happened and then you’d have more than addiction to worry about. And I’d come at you so hard, Ett, you wouldn’t know which way was sunshine.”

  “You can back off, tough guy. Everyone at school does drugs, prescription and street, so don’t get all up me for skipping a class and smoking. And yeah, Mum probably does know, but she’s cool about it, so you have to be too. Anyway, why would I take any shit from you on this?”

  “You know why.”

  “Because you’re my big brother.” She mimicked tiny with her index finger and thumb in his face.

  He batted her hand away. “You know why.”

  “I don’t, you know. It’s still this big secret. You left home and you stayed away and we hardly saw you and when we did you were messed up, bad temper, scabs and bruises and Mum wouldn’t talk about it. Am I ever going to know what happened?”

  He could dodge this. He wanted to. But it didn’t seem right to sit here and lie to Etta on the day Audrey might die. And he wanted better for her. Girls didn’t get the same second chances. Sucked, but it was true.

  He took a breath. “I was fucked up, Ett. I was drinking, doing drugs, whatever I could get. I was drunk or high all the time. I was fighting.”

  “Like boxing?”

  “Illegal. Street fights. For money. I was good at it.”

  She laughed. “Because you’re freaking enormous.” She thought this was funny.

  “That, and I’m fast and light on my feet. I made a lot of money. I pissed most of it away. I hurt a lot of people. I’m not proud of it.”

  “How badly did you hurt them?”

  “I broke stuff. Arms, legs, ribs, faces.” He took a breath and let it out slowly. He never talked about this. And it was worse, far worse than he could tell Etta; than he could tell anyone. For three years he’d been defined by substance abuse and violence. A too easy brutality that gave him minor celebrity status.

  Etta looked at him with suspicion. She didn’t trust it.

  “One guy lost an eye.”

  She rocked into his side, like she’d been hit with a physical shockwave. “Holy crap. I. Don’t. Believe. You.”

  “I was different those three years. I’d finished school. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with myself. It was easy money. The drink and the drugs made me aggressive. I’m too big to hit other guys and not hurt them, but they all wanted to prove something.”

  “That’s why your hands were always cut up.” She put her hand briefly over his. “Your knuckles were the worst. Did you get hurt bad too?”

  “No. Broke a couple of fingers. Broke Charlie’s heart. She told me I couldn’t come home till I remembered who I was. I hated her those years. I hated her for a lot of years. All those years she was sick, or studying and working, I had to be responsible for you and the twins and Flip. I missed out on being a normal kid. I was full of resentment and she told me to grow up and be a man and that’s what I thought I was doing. Being the man.”

  “Jesus, Reece.”

  He shook his head. After saying nothing for so long, he’d said too much.

  “Why didn’t you become a proper boxer?”

  “Because without the drugs I didn’t want to hit people and after a while I stopped being angry. Even with the drugs I used to spend half my time visiting guys I’d smashed up in hospital. I missed all of you and I wanted to come home.”

  “I remember how happy Mum was when you did.”

  “I remember two things.” He sighed and Etta leaned in to him. “You hated it because I got my room back and Flip was scared of me. My own baby sister didn’t want to come near me. That was it for me, no going back ever. But I have to live with what I did and who I was. And I only told you because I don’t want that for you.”

  She lit up a second cigarette. He waved away her offer. He could see her churning all that over. He had to hope it was enough to make her think. To let her know she could talk to him about stuff she wouldn’t go to Charlie with. That was something Polly’s dad had done for him.

  She flicked the butt of that fag into the weed as well. “When I saw you with the broom I thought you’d come home again.”

  He grunted. “No, I’m only visiting. I’ve got plenty of room at Polly’s.”

  “Was Polly fighting too?”

  “He was the fight organiser. I don’t think he’d want you to know. He’s not proud of it either. This is between us, Ett.”

  She nodded, but there was only so far he could trust that. He took a breath, clean, smoke free. Charlie always said it was his story to tell and today was as good as any day to have told it. He hadn’t been that guy, strung out, quick to anger, high on violence, for so long now it was hard to remember what he was like then, the way he’d loved the power of it, been good at it.

  “I went with a
guy. He wanted me to...”

  Oh shit. He leant into Etta, and when she didn’t pull away he put his arm around her. Whatever she said, he’d deal with.

  “He wanted me to touch his prick. I did it. I jerked him off. It was gross.” She shivered and he gave her arm a rub. “He wanted to touch me and I wouldn’t let him. He called me a slut and told everyone I was easy. Now all the guys think I got with him and that I’ll hook up with anyone.”

  The hand not holding on to Etta was curled in a fist. “Who do you want me to be, Ett?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your big brother or your fake dad?”

  She sighed. “What difference would it make?”

  “You’re right. Both of us want to grind the dude’s dick to dust. Is he still around?”

  “Not sure if I should tell you now that I know you used to beat up guys for fun.” She shook herself like a wet dog. “I still don’t believe that.”

  “I wouldn’t beat him up. I’d have a little talk to him.”

  “You’d intimidate him into a puddle of piss.”

  That would be the plan. “You don’t think he earned that?”

  “He moved away. And I don’t hang with the same peeps any more. I’m not going to be a virgin when I get married or anything dumb like that, but I’m not ready and there’s no guy I like that way. I just.” She sighed. “How will I know when I’m ready?”

  “Jesus, Etta.” His phone rang. He pulled it out and answered. Merrill, talking fast. He could hear Mia grizzling in the background. They were home from the hospital. Audrey was stable, but they’d not been able to see her. Esther was arriving tomorrow. Mia was unsettled. She wanted to play treehouse, what was that?

  He told Merrill how to build Mia’s pretend treehouse out of a sheet, the ironing board and a lounge chair and they rang off. That was the easy stuff. Etta watched him like he had all the answers.

  “It’s tricky being with other people. I was seventeen. She was too. It was pretty awful. Neither of us knew what we were doing. I hurt her. Not intentionally, just not knowing. We avoided each other after that. For a long time I was nervous about hurting girls.”

  For a long time he only touched them when everyone had partied too hard, it was the only way to beat the fear. Then, when he was fighting, it came easily. Women wanted him and he didn’t care to correct them. None of them mattered until Sky.