Second Base

by Raven ShadowHawk

  ‘Pioneers?’ If Cindy’s crude language bothered Julian, he did a good job of keeping it to himself. Instead he returned to his seat and folded his hands in his lap. ‘I know my son is a good man, but where does this pioneer talk come from?’

  Karen opened her mouth, but Cindy got there first. ‘Don’t worry about it, Mr Scotney. I’m just playing.’

  ‘Well, if we’re that comfortable with each other, you’d better call me Julian.’

  Karen skimmed the sofa. ‘Where’s Sam?’

  A soft chuckle from Cindy. ‘In the downstairs bathroom. She started to see colours so I told her to stay there for a bit.’

  ‘How many of those stupid things did she eat?’

  ‘She says six, but she’s a shitty liar for a copper. More like ten. She’ll be a mess. A dopey, giggling, horny mess.’

  ‘Maybe I should check on her.’

  ‘No, I’ll go.’ Cindy stood, brushed crumbs off her lap and marched away.

  Julian thumbed his bristly upper lip. ‘This is a lovely house, my dear. I’m glad to see you happy.’

  She gazed at the links of the slave band draped over her wrist. ‘I’ve never been happier.’

  ‘Daniel is happy too, I hope you know that. You make him happy.’

  Karen squirmed and rubbed the back of her neck. She plucked a sausage roll from the stack on the table and popped it into her mouth.

  ‘I’ve embarrassed you. I just . . .’ He looked up as he sought the words he wanted. His gaze fell on the bracket beside the lampshade, remnants of Dan’s suspension play. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Nothing. And I’m not embarrassed, just—’ she fished around for an appropriate diversion and saw Maxine running a finger along the top of the TV. ‘Your wife doesn’t seem to agree.’

  Julian cleared his throat hard enough to make his whiskers billow in the draught. ‘My wife hides pleasure well, that’s certain, but she’s happy too. Trust me. Daniel means more to her than anything and even she sees that you’re good for him. Try not to take anything she says too personally.’

  Karen didn’t speak. Her fingers opened and closed over her palms, tight fists she had to shake away. ‘She hates me.’

  ‘No, no, she doesn’t. Don’t believe that for a moment. It’s just hard to lose her baby boy.’

  ‘Dan is a grown man. He doesn’t even wet the bed any more.’

  Julian stared, his eyes wide with alarm. An instant later he chuckled, puffing through his beard like Santa Claus. ‘That is why he likes you. You’re fiery. Funny. Cruel, sometimes, with that sharp tongue of yours. But I mean it, no mother ever truly believes their son has grown up. Maybe one day you’ll understand.’ He gave her stomach a meaningful glance.

  ‘Me?’ Her voice emerged high and squeaky, a cassette tape played too fast. ‘What?’ Karen took a step back. Gripped her stomach. A moment later she released her grip as though stunned by the reflex. Damp palms. Again. She wiped them on her jeans. ‘No, no, we don’t want—I mean, we never planned—’

  His smile drooped a little. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Not that I wouldn’t—we wouldn’t. I just—we—’

  Her pocket began to vibrate.

  Thank God.

  Groping for the mobile, Karen gave Julian an apologetic glance and backed away. ‘Sorry. I need to take this.’ She left him in the middle of the laughing, drinking crowd and tried to steady the race of her heart.

  Fuck. Where did that come from?

  She answered the phone. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hey, sweetie, it’s me. What number are you, again?’

  Karen tightened her grip on the phone. ‘Mama?’

  ‘Is it number three or seven? I can hear music but I’m not sure which house it’s coming from.’

  ‘We’re seven.’

  ‘Good. Come answer the door.’

  Eyes closed, Karen slipped the phone into her pocket. A moment later, a soft hand settled on her shoulder. Julian stood at her side, his bushy eyebrows drawn down in concern.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Fine I—my mum is here.’

  His eyes brightened. ‘Wonderful. It will be nice to finally meet her. Your father too?’

  Karen stiffened. ‘No.’ Breaking away, she shoved her way through the crowds to the front door. A large shadow loomed against the textured glass.

  She took a deep breath. Opened the door.

  Charlaine Owusu blew through like a whirlwind, planting loud, wet kisses against Karen’s cheek. ‘Hey, sweetie, this is a lovely house. You’ve done so well.’ She brandished a huge box wrapped in silver paper.

  ‘Hi, Mama. Thanks.’ Karen wiped a smear of lipstick off her cheek and took the gift. ‘How are you?’ She took in the tiny wrinkles at the corners of her mother’s eyes, the familiar beauty spot on her right cheek. Short hair with subtle hints of white. A tiny gold crucifix winked against her collar bone. Gold crosses dangled from her pierced ears.

  ‘Wonderful. Excellent. Peaceful.’ She paused in the doorway and beckoned. ‘We both are.’

  ‘Both? You brought a date?’

  ‘Yes. Is that okay?’

  ‘Of course it is! I’ve been hoping you would ditch that creep—’ Karen broke off when she saw her mother’s expression. ‘You didn’t ditch him, did you?’

  ‘Karen—’

  Her grip tightened on the box. ‘I told you not to bring him to my house.’

  ‘I thought you would . . .’ Charlaine’s shoulders drooped.

  ‘What? Change my mind? No, Mama, I don’t want him in my house.’

  ‘But we’ve come all this way.’

  Karen dropped the box. Something inside shattered. ‘I don’t care. He’s not welcome.’

  A shadow fell over them. Karen flinched back, crushing the box with her heel. She looked up, then up some more. Saw white teeth with a flash of gold in one corner. Thick, jowly cheeks, narrow eyes and a hat with a wide brim that cast a shadow over the rest of the face.

  ‘Robert,’ she snarled.

  The man stepped forward. ‘Don’t call mi that.’

  ‘I’ve got a bunch of other names, if you prefer.’

  ‘I’m your father.’

  ‘No, you’re not.’ Karen struck the wall with her palm. Even from a distance his breath reeked of rum. ‘And you’re not welcome here.’

  He snorted. ‘So who’s going to keep mi out? You? This lanky white man you decided to shack up with?’

  ‘Please, don’t.’ Charlaine touched his arm. He shook her off.

  ‘Shut up, woman. You brought mi here, now I’m sure as hell staying for a bite to eat. And a drink. Get inside or out mi way, because I’m going in.’

  Karen watched her mother hesitate. Indecision shone behind those big, dark eyes. Then she shook her head and stepped back. Robert shoved through and straight toward the sound of voices, kicking the silver box aside on the way.

  Karen shook her head. ‘Why, Mama?’

  ‘I need him.’

  She wanted to scream. Hot fury knotted her stomach and made her head throb. ‘You don’t.’

  ‘Oh, sweetie, I do. I really do.’

  Karen’s anger seeped away, replaced by the chill of confusion and worry. The woman cringing in the doorway looked so unlike her mother. Charlaine Owusu was a bright, outspoken, healthy-looking woman. As Karen looked harder, she saw dark circles beneath her mother’s eyes and a sag to the skin around her neck that never used to be there. Even her trembling fingers were thinner than she remembered, the gold wedding ring on her left hand held in place with little lumps of sticky tape.

  ‘Mama . . .’

  ‘Let’s get inside. It’s cold.’

  Karen picked up the crushed box and ushered her mother inside. Instead of following Robert to the sitting room, Karen led her mother into the kitchen. She plucked two shot glasses and a bottle off a high shelf. ‘Havana?’

  A ghost of a smile played over Charlaine’s lips. ‘You know better than that, sweetie.’

  Karen left the bottle a
nd stooped to a low cupboard. When she straightened, she held a tall, unopened bottle of Wray and Nephew.

  ‘That’s my girl.’

  She cracked the lid and poured a generous measure of rum into the shot glasses.

  Charlaine didn’t wait but tossed hers back. ‘Wonderful. I needed that.’

  Karen poured another. ‘What’s going on, Mama? You look tired. I wasn’t sure you’d come tonight.’

  ‘How could I not come see my baby girl’s new house? And meet her friends?’

  ‘You’ve met my friends. You know them. Cindy always asks after you.’

  Charlaine frowned. ‘And how do you tell her anything? You never call me. You never visit me.’

  ‘Neither do you.’

  Silence. They both drank.

  Obnoxious rap lyrics floated through the open kitchen door. Someone shouted and the song cut short, replaced seconds later by a softer, reggae beat.

  Karen gripped the bottle of rum. ‘I hear Robert is making himself at home.’

  ‘You mustn’t hate him, sweetie. He’s a good man.’

  ‘Is he?’

  ‘Of course he is.’

  ‘And is he just good to you or does that extend to Suzanne? And Lola? And Catherine? And Lucy?’

  With each name Charlaine shrank further and further into herself until she appeared low and broken in her chair. ‘He’s not seeing them any more.’

  ‘So there’s someone new?’

  Charlaine stared into her shot glass.

  ‘Mama?’

  ‘It’s just me. Only me and he cares for me now. I need that.’

  ‘You survived without him for years.’

  ‘I had you.’

  A twinge of sadness plucked Karen’s heart and brought a bitter taste to her mouth. ‘You still do. You’ll always have me.’

  A tear gathered in Charlaine’s eye and rolled down her cheek. She didn’t bother to wipe it away. ‘I won’t.’

  ‘Mama?’

  ‘You’ve got this man now. Daniel. You’ve moved and you’ll forget about me. There’ll be nobody left to look after me when I can’t manage any more.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  She looked up from the shot glass. The whites of her eyes were red, her cheeks puffy. ‘I’m sick, sweetie. Cancer. It’s terminal.’

  Chapter Four

  Dan

  ‘Hello?’ Dan tapped his knuckles on the bathroom door.

  A loud cough answered, followed by retching and the wet slap of something heavy hitting standing water. He rolled his eyes. ‘Clean up when you’re done, please.’

  The door popped open. Cindy slid through. ‘Have you got any mint tea or fennel?’

  He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Yeah. I don’t drink that shit but Sam swears it will settle her stomach.’

  ‘Now?’

  She arched an eyebrow. ‘Unless you want your bathroom to smell like puke and cookies for the rest of the night.’ With that, Cindy darted back into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  Dan rubbed his face with his hands.

  Fuck me . . .

  On his return to the kitchen, he paused to peer into the living room. The music wasn’t any he recognised; a slow, Bob Marley sort of style. In the middle of the room, dancing with his mother, a tall, wrestler-wide black man in a pale grey suit, sang along at the top of his lungs.

  Dan watched his mother sway to the music. He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

  What the actual fuck? Who’s that?

  The stranger pawed Maxine like a horny teenager, his thick, broad hands dwarfing her tiny waist. The hem of her floral dress slipped over her boney knees and climbed her thighs.

  Dan reeled, like he’d spent too long on a roller-coaster. ‘Mum?’

  She turned. A sunny, half-crazed smile stretched her lips. ‘Daniel, darling! What a wonderful party. I’m having a marvellous time. Have you met my new friend? This is—darn and blast it, I’ve forgotten your name.’

  The man swept off his hat. A thick mane of dreadlocks tumbled out and kissed the small of his back. ‘I’m Robert Owusu, my snow-queen.’

  Dan’s knees weakened. A stream of nausea rushed up from his belly, threatening to choke him. He gripped the door frame. ‘Owusu?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Robert turned. He loomed, like a cold, dark mountain. ‘And you’re Daniel. The one seeing mi little girl.’

  Little girl?

  ‘I’m Karen’s boyfriend if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘You seem a little old for her, Silver Fox.’

  Dan touched the streaks of grey in his hair. ‘That’s none of your business.’

  ‘Daniel! So rude.’ Maxine wobbled over, grabbed his hand and gave his wrist a firm slap. ‘I taught you better than that.’

  He jerked away and focused on Robert. ‘You’re Karen’s dad?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Her actual, blood father?’

  Robert exhaled sharply. He seemed to grow taller still and spoke with all the menace of a grizzly bear. ‘What are you saying, Silver Fox? You weren’t expecting mi?’

  Fuck, no.

  He licked his lips. ‘Where’s Karen?’

  Maxine shoved her way forward. ‘No idea, Darling, but when you find her, tell her to bring out more of those wonderful chocolate chip cookies.’

  ‘Please say you’re joking.’

  ‘I don’t know why you hid them—naughty boy!—but I made sure everybody sampled them. I simply must have the recipe.’

  Robert grinned, showing off a mouthful of gold teeth. They gleamed to match the sovereigns dangling from a thick chain around his neck. Another flashed on his left middle finger. ‘Mi can help you with that my Ice Queen. Mi think maybe them cookies are a special kind. That right, Silver Fox?’ Amusement seemed to strengthen his accent, broad Caribbean with a hint of something else.

  Dan didn’t answer. Couldn’t. He backed off. ‘I’ll talk to you in a minute, Mum. Don’t eat any more cookies.’

  She waved her hand, an absent dismissal as she returned to dancing. As she swayed to the sensual music, Robert curled his arms around her waist to grind up close. Maxine giggled—actually giggled—and slipped her arms around his neck.

  Dan choked on a surge of horror. I can’t watch this.

  He fled, stumbling into the kitchen and slamming the door behind him. His escape dulled the music to a low roar, but the pounding in his head continued.

  Karen sat at the table, clutching her mother’s hands. Tears streamed down her face.

  ‘Your dad is outside.’ The words didn’t sound like his. Heat rose in his neck and jaw. He forced it down. ‘Karen?’

  She looked at him. Her eyes sparkled with tears. ‘Dan . . .’

  ‘Your dad, Kaz. Really? What the hell?’

  ‘This isn’t the time—’

  He pounded his fist on the sideboard. Plates rattled on the draining rack. A tumbler fell into the sink. He didn’t care. Two steps took him closer to the table. ‘You told me your dad was dead.’

  Charlaine winced. ‘Sweetie, how could you?’

  Karen leapt up, flinging her mother’s hands away. She paced the room. ‘He is dead to me. As far as I’m concerned that man died years ago. He shouldn’t be here.’

  ‘But he is here,’ Dan snarled. ‘In our living room. Mauling my stoned mother.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Pete bought space-cakes—idiot!—and they’re doing the rounds. I don’t know how many she ate, but she’s not herself.’

  Karen gave her mother a pointed look then wiped her nose on the back of her wrist. ‘Please, Dan, I know you’re pissed off, but we’ll talk about it later. Something bigger is going on.’

  ‘Bigger than your dad coming back from the dead?’

  ‘Mama has cancer,’ Karen roared. Her hands shook. ‘I’d say that’s bigger than some womanising arsehole crashing our party.’

  His ears rang; shrill, clanging bells that filled his head and blocked all oth
er sound. The world pitched and dipped before him, shimmering as through scalding heat. He tried to speak, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Only when Charlaine patted his hand, did he realise he had sat down.

  ‘Cancer?’ He barely recognised his voice. ‘Wow.’ He turned, seeking Karen. She stood nearby, arms folded tight, chin ducked down. When he reached for her, she leapt away.

  ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Kaz, please.’

  ‘Don’t.’ Louder this time, forced through tears. ‘I need you to—I don’t know what I need.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I don’t need your sorries; I need Mama not to have cancer.’

  He gasped, hunching over the table. Words fought for freedom on the tip of his tongue, but none felt right. What was he supposed to say?

  ‘Sweetie, it’s okay. I’ve made peace with it.’ Charlaine whispered, gaze pinned to the table top. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘You’re dying, Mama.’

  ‘We all have to die.’

  ‘But you can’t. I need you.’

  Dan felt sick. Helplessness washed over him until he could barely breathe.

  Charlaine smiled. ‘You’ve got Dan now. He’ll look after you.’

  A lump formed in Dan’s throat. He swallowed but it stuck there, choking his words.

  ‘Won’t you?’ Charlaine gazed at him, calm and steady.

  In that moment Dan knew exactly what Karen would look like in twenty years. Both women shared quiet, constant intensity, flawless skin and fine beauty.

  He clutched the edge of the table. Cleared his throat. ‘Of course I will.’

  With a choking sob, Karen flung herself at him. He braced for the impact in time to stop the chair toppling and he held her while she wept. Tears moistened his shoulder. Her laboured, erratic breaths filled his ear. All the while, she clung to him, body trembling. He stroked her hair and said nothing.

  Charlaine gave a small nod. A warm rush of gratitude flooded his body.

  I’ll look after her. I’ll give her anything she needs.

  ‘I’m sorry to tell you like this, sweetie. But I couldn’t get here by myself. Trains are too much for me now, but Robert said he’d bring me. He wanted to see you.’