by Nikki Buick
I stood up. It was about time. Lunch was ancient history and I really wanted to see Pippa. I never thought I’d be hanging out to see my sister, but life certainly was full of surprises.
Shielding my eyes against the afternoon glare, which bounced back off the stretch of mountain ranges behind Trinity Beach, I saw the muddy red truck pulled up on the esplanade between thatches of trees. I wasn’t going to carry Ranger all the way back up the beach. Step could come and get him. I grabbed the beach bag and started up the fluffy sand, the powder dusting my toes like a fish fillet being rolled in flour.
I looked back at Sophie and she had tears in her eyes. Puzzled as to why, I looked back at the truck. Step got out of the driver’s seat and came around the front of the car. He gave a wave. I gave a wave back. There was no point hanging on to the whole sulky thing. It was a bit childish. Although, I was still contemplating whether or not I was going to tell Mum and Step that I knew Dad had been trying to call me. Should I leave it alone, or press them on it? I was deep in thought as I looked up to see the passenger door open.
That’s weird. Maybe Mum came too?
The sunlight spilt through the feathery palms like fireworks. I stopped suddenly and frowned. It wasn’t Mum. It was a tall man.
My heart did a backflip.
He’ll probably be on the first plane up here.
I dropped the bag. My toes dug into the sand, scrunching in and out.
‘DAD!’
DAD
He’d changed a lot. He was thinner and looked much older than the dad I remembered. His hair was peppered with grey and his eyes were a deeper, blacker shade of brown. There was a sadness that hung about his face like invisible jowls.
We sat in the little coffee shop, a mismatch of sudden strangers. He couldn’t stop looking at me and when he did I looked down into my lap, embarrassed. He was no doubt noting all the changes in me too. The bum fluff on my chin, the wider shoulders, the long hair and deeper voice.
Mum and Step were nervous, talking over one another, catching on words, stuttering. Dad and I took a long time to talk. We’d had the initial reunion with the hugs and tears but now we were wary and a little self-conscious. So much time and space hung between us.
‘So she’s going to be in hospital until Friday,’ Mum chattered, ‘… and then I’ll fly home with her and Brad will drive the car back. She’s completely out of danger now.’
‘Actually, I’m thinking of selling the old pile and flying back with you, Alex,’ Step said. ‘Seriously. The gear box is playing up and I don’t know if I could handle that long trip back.’
We all fell silent. I took a sip of my glass of Coke and Dad stirred a stick in his coffee.
‘I’ve got myself a nice little place in the city, not far from you, and I’m working for Steve, you know, at the factory,’ Dad finally said, to no-one in particular but probably to me and Mum.
‘Jesse’s dad?’ I asked, only half surprised.
He nodded. They’d been mates for years. I thought more about it and remembered … Jesse had said he wanted to tell me something on the phone and then thought better of it. That must have been it.
‘Your mate Jesse’s turned out to be a nice lad,’ Dad added. ‘And I met your buddy, Paul? Beggsie?’
I nodded.
‘He’s bitten off more than he can chew, I reckon!’ Dad gave me a knowing wink.
I laughed. Dad and I, despite the cavernous gulf between us, had a secret that Mum didn’t share. It was nice. Dad drank in my laughter and joined in it and then went, just as suddenly, quiet. He put his hands over his mouth and his chin, and his eyes welled up with tears. He sucked in a deep, wet breath.
Step gave Mum a nod and the two of them stood up. Mum got behind the stroller where Ranger sat, ripping a paper napkin to pieces with his little teeth.
‘We’ll leave you two alone to talk,’ Mum said, sniffing back her own tears.
I watched Mum and Step leave the café, negotiating their way through the crush of tables and chairs, and then Dad and I looked at one another and both bit down on our lips.
‘You’ve grown up so much, mate,’ he began. ‘I barely recognise you.’
I swallowed hard. ‘I wanted to come see you in jail, Dad, I really did,’ I said, choking on the words. ‘And to write to you … but.’
‘Brad told me, son,’ he said reaching a hand over the table. ‘Your mum’s been sick. I know. Brad’s a good bloke. You and Pippa are lucky and your mum’s lucky. She’s got a second chance at being happy. Mum had told me you didn’t want to see me so I didn’t pursue it. I didn’t want to upset you.’
I shook my head. ‘That’s not true and Brad’s a jerk and I don’t love him and he’s never gonna be like a dad …’ I stammered.
‘Shhh, don’t do that,’ Dad tutted. ‘He rang me last night, Brad did, and he asked me to come up here to Cairns …’
‘He had to,’ I argued. ‘Because Pippa needed you.’
Dad shrugged. ‘Maybe, yeah,’ he said. ‘But actually, Hunter, Brad told me that it was you who needed me more.’
I just looked at him and he smiled a sad and hopeful smile. In that moment, I realised it was me who was the jerk. I’d never given Step a chance. He’d hung in there with us even when I’d been the biggest little shit in the world. I’d given him every reason to walk away but he hadn’t. I knew it was me that owed him an apology. A really big one.
‘I’ve talked to Mum,’ Dad went on, swallowing hard, levelling me with a serious look, ‘… and we’ve decided that if you want to, you can fly back with me tomorrow, to Brisbane, and stay with me in my flat until they get home. We’ve got some catching up to do. She’s fine with it.’ He looked at me hopefully. ‘That’s if … if you’re fine with it. We’ll take it slow and if you want to … spend more time to reconnect. If you want to …’
I took a deep breath and my cheeks were stinging. I nodded, breathing hard to stop from blubbering. I blinked and smiled, fighting back the tears.
‘Yeah,’ I nodded. ‘Yeah, Dad. I’d really, really like that.’
Finally, I was going home.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to the Queensland Writers Centre, and in particular, former CEO, Kate Eltham, for introducing me to a great early mentor, Leonie Tyle. I valued your encouragement so much, Leonie (and of course our lovely long lunches).
Enormous thanks to the construction crew – my dynamite literary agent, Sophie Hamley; Kristina Schulz, a visionary publisher; Michele Perry, my eagle-eyed, insightful editor and all at UQP for helping Sandy Feet find its legs.
To Gemma Ward – your friendship and capacity for love and laughter is always inspiring.
To the cheer squad who make me want to write – Melinda Batley-Ole Keko, Akka Ballenger Constantin, Christine Coles, Stefan Redford, Susanna Viles (write that book, girl!), Marina Rose, Stephanie Humphreys, the late Lillian Hollis, Wendy Harmer, Julie Scott, Susie Roach and Rhoni Stokes (I’ll use the carnivore-steak line one of these days) – thank you.
To the family – Mum, Dad, Bob, Annie, Rachel, Ben, David and Patsy, thanks for the love – and the kids, big and small, who make life so technicoloured – Benjamin, Toby, Caitlin, Madelaine, Harrison, Mia, Tom and William. And to Oscar, the dog, for keeping my feet warm while I wrote.
But the widest and deepest thank you of all goes to you, my soul mate, Zeus Eugenius, for loving this writer-woman with all your beautiful heart – you must be mad!
This book also pays tribute to the casualties of divorce and separation. People get hurt. Sometimes they can be hurt more than they need to be. Parents, be gentle on your children and don’t make them take sides. Kids, remember that your parents aren’t perfect and sometimes they need your help to see things clearly. It’s rough for them, too. Love between parents and their children should be timeless and unconditional and relationship break-ups should not get in
the way of that. Be kind to one another. Be there for one another.
First published 2014 by University of Queensland Press
PO Box 6042, St Lucia, Queensland 4067 Australia
www.uqp.com.au
[email protected]
© Nikki Buick 2014
This book is copyright. Except for private study, research,
criticism or reviews, as permitted under the Copyright Act,
no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,
or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior
written permission. Enquiries should be made to the publisher.
Cover design and illustration of car by Jo Hunt
Cover illustrations by iStockphoto
Typeset in 12/16pt Adobe Garamond by Post Pre-press Group, Brisbane
Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group
Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
National Library of Australia
Buick, Nikki, author.
Sandy feet / Nikki Buick.
For young adults.
Boys–Fiction.
Coming of age–Fiction.
Families–Fiction.
A823.4
ISBN 978 0 7022 5315 7 (pbk)
ISBN 978 0 7022 5296 9 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7022 5297 6 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7022 5298 3 (kindle)
University of Queensland Press uses papers that are natural, renewable and recyclable products made from wood grown in sustainable forests. The logging and manufacturing processes conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin.
