“I’ve eaten.”
“Pub swill. Reece, what are you doin? You don’t want to do this.”
“I’m drinking, it’s legal. I can get as shitfaced as I want.”
“You can’t get over her this way.”
Carrie smiled directly at him. She made a little come here gesture with her fingers. He had a vision of his fingers curled inside her, making her come. He’d make her scream. “Fuck off, Pol.”
“Think about it, man. You and Audrey are not done. Don’t fuck it up worse.”
“We’re done.” He’d been replaced by Cameron and Barrett in less than twenty-four hours. “We’re so fucking done. I’m not some fucking wife she can buy. The sooner I move on the better.” He hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. Took it out when it rang again. Sky. Polly would’ve suggested she call. He let the call ring out in his pocket. He made the same come here gesture Carrie had made to him. He couldn’t take her back to Polly’s. His car keys were behind the bar and staying there. She’d have her car, a Beemer. He’d fuck her over the hood.
Carrie tossed her hair. She’d be pouting, licking her lips. He’d have her use her tongue on him in more productive ways. He watched her say her goodbyes and make her way across the pub to him. She looked good. She’d taste better than this bitterness.
She stopped in front of him, not touching distance, but she didn’t appreciate how long his reach was, even sitting on a stool, or how quickly he could move, even half tanked, especially half tanked. That’s when he made his most aggressive moves.
“Are you really on your own, darling boy?”
He nodded. She wore those tight pants like an invitation to rut.
“You like what you see?”
“I like that you’re offering it to me.”
“I’ve been offering it to you for months. How come you’re in a taking mood tonight?”
“Shit happens.”
“Audrey.”
“We’re finished.”
Carrie gasped. “She’d be a fool to let you go and she’s no fool. What did you do, Reece?”
“Barrett’s back.” It was the easiest thing to say. Barrett holding Audrey’s hand, watching out for her. Easiest because he couldn’t explain why it had fallen apart over his own lies and shady past.
“Mia’s father? But they were never anything more than friends.”
He didn’t need the analysis. He reached for Carrie, pulled her forward and stood her between his knees. “I’m not much for conversation tonight.”
Her eyes had gone wide. “I’m not much for stepping on someone’s territory, but I’ve wanted you between my legs since I first saw you.”
She closed the distance between them. Her breasts pressed full on his rib cage; her arms went over his shoulders. “You are so sexy. You’ll make me feel good. I’ll make you feel good too, darlin’ boy.”
He kissed her to shut her up, to shut out the gloss and gluttony of her. She tasted of wine and under that of loneliness and that was unexpected. He pulled away, to look at her face, to read that pain. She put her hand on his dick, gripped him, and he forgot to be concerned. He ate her lipstick, her lips. She fed him her desperation in exchange for his anger. They swapped regret, hers old and weary, his fresh green and stinging so sharp it made him grind on her to find relief.
She stopped him, laughing, delighted, and led him to her car by the hand. Fucking beautiful car. She drove it like it meant nothing to her. He distracted her with his hands, got them up under that top on her skin, plucking at her tit. She pulled over, they were somewhere in Double Bay, the streets wide and tree-lined, the homes mansions.
He hauled her over the centre console and into his lap. He had the seat as far back as it would go, but he couldn’t straighten his legs out. She let him suckle her in the car, in the pale orange glow of a street light, she arched into him, rolling her hips, her head tossed back. He got her unzipped, gave her his fingertips to work against and watched her get herself off, trembling and jerking, her breathing a series of hiccups and moans.
Why didn’t her husband love her enough? Why didn’t she leave him, find someone who did? Carrie came on his hand and collapsed on his chest and he stoked her back until she caught her breath.
“Come inside so you can come inside, lover,” she said, laughing.
Eugenia would be in the house, the babysitter. Would Carrie’s husband come home? Did she want to fuck him in her bed, or in a spare room somewhere in the big house behind them? He wasn’t her lover. And he knew he never would be.
She put her hand to his face. “I’ve lost you.”
He took her wrist and moved her hand away, the action too much a reminder of Audrey.
“You really love her don’t you? Oh, Reece. I can feel it in you. Are you sure it’s over?”
“She didn’t give me a choice.”
In the confines of the car, Carrie wrapped her arms around him and held him, not as a woman wanting sex, but as one giving comfort. He couldn’t dislike her for that. But he couldn’t be what she wanted either.
He stumbled back to Polly’s in a blur of alcohol and frustration. He should’ve known he couldn’t bury Audrey that easy. That he wasn’t ready to try. He needed a new plan. And it started with sleep. He fell into bed. Next thing he knew, Polly was standing over him with an empty glass of water in his hand.
He’d intended to get drunk and that’d worked out well. He’d anticipated feeling sorry for himself, having a hangover, and that was shaping up nicely, like a road grader sitting on his forehead. But the water tipped on his face and the sleep, the sleep that was supposed to take up all of the day, was not going as projected, and he was shitty about that, and about Polly dragging him out of bed into his truck, and making him stand outside a derelict structure.
“I’m not going back to bricklaying.” Though what he was looking at was more like demolition and in his current frame of mind smashing things with a mallet would be a joy, despite the pounding head.
“Just look at it and tell me what you see.”
“If I punched you, even as hammered as I am, it’ll hurt.”
“Tell me what you see.”
Reece looked at the building, a corner block, well positioned, on the edge of a public park, but not big enough to support housing or high-rise. It’d once been a small garden centre selling plants, potting mix and cut flowers. It’d been abandoned for years. There was so little of it left standing it wouldn’t qualify as a fire hazard. He punched Polly in the ribs.
Polly staggered sideways and doubled over, the air coming out of him in a pained oof. He held onto his knees till he got his breath back. Reece should feel bad about that. Polly was his landlord after all. He didn’t give a shit. He turned to walk back to Polly’s truck.
“Tell me what you see, arsehole.”
He kept moving.
“It’s yours.”
He stopped, turned back too fast and his head spun. “Say what?”
“It’s yours, ours. I thought you might know what to do with it.”
He shook his head. Polly could fucking play silly buggers on his own time. He was going back to bed.
“Don’t make me shout this so the whole street can hear it.”
Thing is he would. Reece went back to the corner and stood by Polly, facing the old pile of rubble and busted glass. What was left of the original greenhouse was held together by graffiti.
“That,” Polly gestured to the heap of shit. “Is our future.”
“I’m still drunk, but if I was sober you’d still be making zip sense.”
“Dad bought that building off the original owner. He got it for a good price because it’s got awkward zoning. Too many restrictions on what you can build there because of the park.”
“And he’s given it to us? Did I hear that right?”
“It’s ours.”
“Your dad can’t give me half a property. And I’m not going back to building.”
“He used our money.”
“Jesus Christ, Neeva makes more sense than you do. Flip has the smarts not to annoy me with a hangover.”
“I don’t remember it exactly so you won’t either, but you know how he was always ragging on us about the drink, suspicious about everything else we were doing?”
Reece nodded. They’d been a disappointment to Gino Pollidore
“He borrowed a thousand bucks off each of us. Told you not to tell me. Told me not to tell you. Crafty bastard. He bet on you on that final fight, the whole two g. Then he collected big and bought that. He thought we’d end up with nothing, broke or in jail. He wanted us to have something and not easy money we could mess up with. He told me about it yesterday. There’s a mortgage on it to pay, but the deeds are in our names.”
“This is real?” It was insane, how could it be real? He had no recollection of lending Gino money, but then that period was a haze of abused senses and lost time.
“It’s real. We could buy each other out. Or we could develop it, or sell it. I thought you might know what you wanted to do with it.”
He’d never ditched a hangover so quickly. He walked around the structure. Bewildered, excited. He put his foot against an architrave and it gave, taking half a wall of wooden palings and the leftover glass of a broken window with it. “We need to get the site cleaned up before some kid gets hurt here.”
Polly had gone the other way and didn’t hear him. He needed to go see Gino and thank him. It was humbling to understand the depth of his consideration for the fucked up friend of his son. Any other parent would’ve wanted them separated, tried to drive a wedge between them. He had no idea what to do with this, but it needed to be something worthy of that generosity and foresight.
He turned back to follow Polly, repeating himself about not wanting kids to get hurt here and it hit him, like a wrecking ball and he knew exactly what to do.
24: Contingency
It took home delivered Thai food and four well-intentioned adults ninety minutes to work out a plan to care for Mia in the event of Audrey being unable to. Audrey found it a macabre relief that if she gave dying a fatal nudge, Mia would be cared for in a way that wouldn’t make her want to cosmically reconstitute and parent in corporeal form.
She looked across the dining table at Barrett and he nodded. What they’d done was good, sensible, responsible provisioning for Mia’s welfare they should’ve thought to do when she was born.
“I can die happy now,” she said. Though if she had the misfortune to die tonight she would be sticky with unwashed regret, the kind that went layers deep like the ink of a tattoo that needed to be blasted out.
It wasn’t clever, but everything they’d just nutted out between Merrill, Joe herself and Barrett was less than perfect because Reece wasn’t part of it.
Les would document it and they’d all sign it and in each of their homes there’d be a disaster management plan that Audrey was sure would be the best thing for Mia in the event of the worst thing happening. But it reinforced like nothing else had that Mia growing up without Reece in her life was like never making a snowman, building a sandcastle or climbing a mountain to see a mandarin sunset.
And she wanted all that and more for Mia. Damn Reece for making her feel inadequate for packing snow and chasing the sun, and making the world wonderful for Mia on her own.
She’d had her share of single parent doubts; they’d left her feeling panicked or selfish, or simply lacking in the essential nutrients for bringing up a child successfully. But every parent worried about getting it right, it was part of the job description, and Audrey knew she was worse at it than some and better at it than others. She knew that would be the case before she selected Barrett as her donor. What she needed to shake off was feeling inadequate now, because as long as she was still functioning, she was capable of doing right by Mia.
Missing Reece was a devious ache that crept up on her and settled over her whole body like humidity. It was sapping and irritating and wouldn’t be shifted, but she’d have to do it because Barrett would be gone soon and she wouldn’t have him to lean on.
He was hopeless with Mia, more often than not scaring her, easily put out and lacking the aptitude to appreciate the bizarre humour and warped logic of a nearly four year old. He tried to reason with her, which might have been funny except he was continually outraged by Mia’s devious lies and calculating ways. But he was here and he tried and she was grateful because her days were long and full as she got on top of the new job.
She eyed the last of the Crying Tiger. “If no one else wants that?” She waved her fork in the general direction of the beef dish. It was cold but it would still be delicious.
“Yours,” said Barrett, and Joe echoed him.
Merrill waved a hand, a go on gesture. “It’s good to see you with a healthy appetite.”
Audrey served herself the remainder of the dish, pouring all the spicy sauce left in the container over a last service of rice as well. “This new job is making me hungry.” Which was a miracle.
“Are you forgetting to eat during the day again?” Merrill asked.
She knew well that Audrey often did, coasting from breakfast to dinner with only coffee and tearoom pilfered biscuits in between. The real miracle was that she’d never had trouble with weight, except losing too much of it. “No. By the time I get to work I need a second breakfast.”
Barrett laughed. “Cameron needs to send you off with two sandwiches in the morning.”
Audrey ate a forkful of rice. “Good idea.” Merrill looked at her strangely. “What, it is. I’m still underweight.”
Merrill nodded. She reached for Joe’s hand. They’d had no luck getting pregnant and that might’ve made talking about what to do with Mia awkward, but they’d been enthusiastic, which brought her thoughts full circle. Macabre. But morbid thoughts were almost better than thinking about Reece, and ice cream was better than both.
“I got us ice cream cake for dessert.”
“Like for a kid’s party?” said Joe with obvious distaste.
Barrett stood without a word and went to kitchen. They heard him rumbling about.
“Not for me, mate,” Joe called. “Not much for sweet stuff.”
“Wait,” Audrey said. This wasn’t ordinary ice cream cake, no test run for Mia’s birthday. It was artisan gelato Black Forest cake, which looked like a cross between a space ship and a 1930’s pendent light.
Barrett appeared in the doorway, the creation held at shoulder height. “Behold, chocolate fondant gelato, kirsch, semifreddo with cherries and chocolate crackle.”
“Oh my waistline,” said Merrill, but she clapped her hands. “Gimme.”
“I thought you’d be impressed.”
Audrey served. Joe succumbed and for a moment all you could hear were moans of delight. Joe had seconds. Barrett made coffee. Audrey went for seconds too, a smaller slice, but it was utterly delicious and she couldn’t resist. She smiled across the table at Merrill, and Merrill burst into tears.
Joe’s spoon clattered onto his plate and he gathered Merrill to him with a bemused expression. “Merry, what’s wrong? Tell me, what did I do? What did I not do?”
Audrey exchanged a look with Barrett. He pulled a face. Joe repeated his appeal.
Merrill lifted her head and looked at Audrey. “You’re pregnant.”
“No.” Audrey laughed, astonished into it.
“You never eat ice cream. You craved it the whole time you were pregnant with Mia.” Merrill switched her gaze to Barrett. “That’s why he’s here and you weren’t going to tell us because, because—” She broke up again.
Audrey said, “No.”
Barrett said it far louder, “No,” standing up to press the point.
“But?” Merrill sniffed, her lips were rubbery and her cheeks were wet.
Audrey got over her shock. “He’s only visiting.
“I’m truly only visiting.”
Audrey looked from Barrett to Merry and Joe. “I don’t want another kid, you know tha
t. One is enough, more than enough. I would never have sprung it on you and it’s only ice cream.”
“Aud, you’re pale and tired, yet the doc gave you a tick for being fully recovered, you’re eating up a storm and you had a second helping of ice cream.”
“Oh Merry, I can’t be pregnant.”
Merrill frowned. Her eyes shifted to Barrett and back. Was she thinking of Reece?
“I got so underweight I stopped ovulating. I’m still not. I can’t possibly be pregnant.”
That set Merrill off again and in turn upset Joe and ended what had been a surprisingly enjoyable night, given its agenda.
Barrett stayed another week, long enough for Les to write up their agreement about Mia’s guardianship and to sign it, long enough that Mia stopped being hesitant around him and Jeremy grovelled again. He left with a promise to be back by the time Mia was ready for a school uniform and Audrey missed him the moment he was gone, despite the relief of having the house to herself again nights and weekends.
She settled in at work. Mia stopped asking about Reece quite as often and was happy with Cameron. Cameron stopped looking drawn and went on a date with a new man. Audrey put on weight, but not where she expected to, the usual places, hips and waist. She still wasn’t ovulating and that was a concern, but Doc Barber wasn’t overly worried. What was a concern was her lack of energy. She was eating like food was the only thing keeping her from sleep and sleeping like being comatose was the only thing keeping her feet moving. She’d known the new job would be stressful but feeling exhausted was a new addition to her life.
Doc Barber didn’t think it was related to the meningitis, but ordered a full battery of blood tests anyway. Audrey ordered organic fruit and vegetables and tried to eat more nutrient rich food and get more exercise to build her energy levels. She managed to get through the workday without needing a snooze at her desk but was a zombie by the time she got home. In desperation one weekend, so tired she almost scalded Mia with too hot bathwater, she called Merrill and asked if she’d take Mia the next afternoon.
Merrill arrived with cake and a pop-up princess book for Mia, which kept her quiet while they talked.
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