The Night Manager

by Tarrah Anders

  I feel like I could solve any brain teaser after everything I just worked out.

  I write everything out on the whiteboard on the wall, stand back and admire my thought process. The next day, I show up to the club early enough to catch Kendra with a few hours left to go on her shift, so I could present the plan to her.

  She is completely on board, and she even offers to work a few additional hours on the busiest days. We each do some scribbling on the whiteboard and, by the time she had to take off, we are both satisfied with the schedule for the days I’ll be gone.

  My phone rang a few times while I was working on the schedule with Kendra. I had ignored it at the time, and when I finally picked up my phone, I was kicking my own ass because I missed two calls from Cam. I immediately dial her number, hoping that she picks up.

  The line connects, and I hear a rustling of fabric before she answers.

  “Jacks,” she says breathily.

  “‘Ello, love. How are you?” I miss you.

  “Holding up. Listen. I wanted to call you as soon as I made up my mind. I didn’t want to prolong this any more than it should be.”

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  “I’m not coming home,” she says quickly. "I'm staying here. I need to. I'm needed here."

  The sounds of a car wreck are distinct and devastating – the squealing of tires, the screeching of brakes, the boom of impact, the crunch of metal, The silence that surrounds the space immediately after is just as overwhelming. That’s what I’m experiencing right now. I’m not sure if my heart has stopped or not, because time has stopped. I’m not completely sure I heard her right.

  I clear my throat. “Come again?”

  “I’m staying here. Home. In Australia.”

  I’m not an extremely tall man, but sitting in an airplane for seventeen hours is brutal. I sleep as much as my body permits, but the individual sitting beside me keeps climbing over me to use the facilities, and the beverage cart keeps slamming into my elbow as it passes up and down the aisle.

  When I land in Sydney, I arrange for a rental and make my way to the home of Cam and Malcolm’s parents in Waverton on Sydney’s north shore. I drive through the familiar streets of the small suburban area, passing small shops and local restaurants, into the neighborhoods filled with homes, large ones with amazing architecture, high rise apartments, and cottages of all sizes. Their parents lived in a medium-size cottage with a backyard you can see the harbor in the distance. Next to their home is a pocket park, packed with children running around at the moment. The area is so close to the city, yet still quiet. Only the laughing kookaburras and children make up for the sounds of the city across the way.

  I pull up and park my rental behind another rental car and step out.

  I came with no plan other than to be here for Cam and for Mal and to be a support for Cam and her family in whatever way that I can. I know she’s doing whatever she can do to keep busy which also may be including that she’s avoiding her feelings and everything that’s happening.

  After the phone call when Cam told me she was ending things with me the other night, I’ve been pulling my hair out. I’m frustrated, devastated, and feeling the sorrow that I’m sure she is feeling from losing her mom. Mal called me the same night Cam did and told me that she was out of her mind with grief and likely didn’t know what she was saying. He thinks she was talking out of grief and not out of her actual wants or reality as a whole.

  I don’t want to force her to come back to Vegas, but I also didn’t want her to give up on us. Still, I understand why she thinks that she should stay.

  I’ve come to the realization that I am going to the woman I love. That’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks. I love her. There was no question about it.

  I love Cam.

  I. Love. Her.

  So regardless of her decision about relocating, I need to be there for her, and for Mal. I need to tell her in person, so I can look into her eyes when I tell her that I completely adore her, that I love her with everything that I am. I need to see her and, even if she doesn’t change her mind, then at least I will have been there for those that I love in their time of grieving and then return home.

  Alone.

  I slowly walk the distance from the curb to the front door. I hesitate and take a deep breath, then knock on the door. Mal opens up the door and then pushes open the screen, a weak smile on his tired face and a sigh of relief. He pulls me in for a half hug and a pat on the back, then steps aside to let me into the house.

  “I’m glad you could make it. I need all the help I can get. Pop won’t get out of bed and Cam seems to be constantly busying herself with mediocre tasks in order to avoid us as much as possible. She doesn’t know you were planning on coming.”

  We walk into the kitchen and through a sliding glass door leading to the back porch, which overlooks greenery and then the water. Beck is sitting in one of the lounge chairs and turns her head when we come outside. She stands and approaches, opening her arms to embrace me.

  “So glad you could come. I know it means a lot to them,” she whispers in my ear.

  “No other place I would rather be,” I reply with all honesty.

  “How ya going?” I look to Mal and he shrugs.

  “It’s a toss-up. Sometimes I feel like I’m barmy as a bandicoot, other times I’m fine.”

  “And Cam? You don’t think Cam staying here is what she really wants, do you?” I ask with hope.

  They both shake their heads. “Cam is happy in Las Vegas with you. Despite Ma passing, Cam is truly happy with you. I think she’s looking for the familiar, and that’s here.”

  “So what I need to do is to show her the familiar with me, with the four of us. You think that will change her mind?” I ask.

  “Her mind isn’t made up. She’s running on empty. She’s frantic and constantly on the move. She won’t allow herself to slow down. Since we arrived, she’s barely slept and hasn’t sat down long enough to digest fully everything that’s happened,” Beck says.

  “Where is she now?” I ask, wanting to rush to her.

  “She went to the chemist; Pop needed a refill. She should be home shortly.”

  As soon as Mal finished speaking, a door slammed somewhere in the house and I could hear yelling. It’s Cam’s voice. I look nervously to Mal who stands and goes inside the house to retrieve his sister.

  He leaves the door open and I hear him asking her to come outside. She groans and tries to make up an excuse, so he drags her outside by the elbow. I stand up to full height as Cam steps foot on the deck. She halts and I’m unsure what to do with my fucking arms. The itch to reach out to her is strong.

  Should I cross them or should I just reach out?

  She crosses the distance and makes the decision for me. She rushes into me and buries her face in my chest. Her slender shoulders shaking as her arms tighten around my waist as my hands wrap around her waist and go to the back of her head to hold her close to me.

  “We’re just going to…” Beck trails off as she stands and indicates they’re going inside to give Cam and me privacy.

  We stand there in silence for a few minutes, holding onto another. She’s crying into my shirt, and I'm relishing the fact that I'm holding her. I’m not sure how much time goes by before she sniffles and pulls back. She has glassy red eyes from crying and her beautiful blonde hair is mussed from my hand. I reach to smooth it out, just to touch her.

  “What are you doing here?” she finally asks.

  “Your Ma died. You think I was going to make you go through this shit on your own?”

  “But, I think we broke up,” she stammers, her eyes searching mine.

  “You tried to break up with me,” I say simply with a smirk.

  “Tried?”

  “Love, I’m not going to let you go without a fight.”

  “I can’t go back to Vegas. There’s so much here for me to take care of. I need to make sure the house doesn’t crumble now that Ma is gone. Pop
can’t take care of it by himself.” A lone tear escapes the edge of her right eye and I lift my hand to catch it.

  “Have you talked to your Pop about this?” I ask.

  “No, he’s been kind of reclusive.”

  “Listen, I don’t want to force you to do something that you don’t want to do. But I think you should talk to your Pop about this. In the meantime, I’m here through Sunday. I’m here for you and for Mal, but mainly for you.”

  Tears break again and she pushes her face back into my chest. I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head.

  I’ll wait to tell her how I feel. How much I need her in my life.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cam

  Jacks is here. He’s really here.

  He flew all the way to Sydney to be here for me. And to be here for his best mate, but he said that he was mainly here for me. For me.

  I think I fell just a little more in lust with him. Lust? No. Love is the word I’m looking for.

  I love him.

  Jacks. I love him.

  But I’m torn. I feel obligated to stay in Sydney and not return to Las Vegas. Who else is going to take care of Pop? Since the news of Ma’s passing, he’s confined himself to his bedroom. He’s barely eaten any of the food we’ve left for him, and he hasn’t spoken to Mal or me since we arrived. What will happen to him if no one is around to take care of him?

  . As soon as I set foot on Aussie soil, my phone lit up with message notifications. We drove straight to the hospital and found Pop sitting at the edge of her empty bed with his head in his hands. He hasn’t said a word since and I just don’t know what to do. Ma was his life. She held this house together and the family as well. That’s not to say my father won’t survive, but he’s had someone look after him for so many years, how will be manage?

  I’ve been keeping myself busy with little chores here and there to keep moving, to keep from dwelling on what happened. On top of household things, I’ve checked in on old Mrs. Williams next door. Before I moved to the States, I had helped her around the house doing chores she could no longer do. Guess I came home and picked up right where I left off. I’ve been grateful for the familiarity of these old habits and the distraction they offer.

  I had made the late-night decision that I couldn’t go back to Nevada. To do that would be selfish, since Pop and Mrs. Williams need me here. What I didn’t take into account was that I am needed in Las Vegas too. I have a life there. I have new friends, my brother and Beck and I have Jacks. That’s not to say here in Waverton that I don’t have my old life and friends, but I moved to the States to start fresh and I was loving the life that I started in the States, more than I knew when I told Jacks I wasn’t coming home.

  Home. That’s in the States now.

  Once I’ve cried enough on Jacks’s shirt, I drag him inside the house where Beck and Mal are watching telly.

  “Did you kiss and make up?” Mal asks.

  “Not yet,” Jacks says, smiling. He’s holding my hand tightly as if I might run away.

  We sit together on the other side of the room, hands interlocked, and thighs touching. It feels comfortable, soothing. I lean my head on his shoulder and breathe in his musky smell.

  “So, what do you need help with? I’m at your service,” Jacks says to Mal.

  “I’ve got all the preparations made. The service is tomorrow. We have a car picking up the family at noon. Then folks will be coming back here afterwards.”

  “Ugh, a party? Why?” I complain.

  “It’s a celebration of life. We’re just hosting; her book club friends are planning it,” Mal explains. “A few hours of mingling and some day drinking and that’s it.”

  “This sucks. When I die, I don’t want a funeral. I want to be cremated and my ashes spread at the harbor. I don’t want any one crying and wiping their snot all over the place. I want a celebration, a party. And definitely no churchy stuff.” I untangle my hand from Jacks’s and cross my arms over my chest.

  I hear shuffling feet in the hallway and turn my gaze to see Pop in his pajamas with a newspaper in his hand.

  He looks confused and then shakes his head and turns to walk into the kitchen. I attempt to get up but Mal stands first, holds his hand out and then follows after Pop.

  “This is the first time he’s come out of his bedroom,” Beck whispers.

  We sit silently, straining to hear anything that is said between my brother and father, but their voices are low and we’re unable to hear their conversation. After more shuffling, Pop retreats back to his room and Mal comes out of the kitchen looking forlorn.

  “Good news is that he’s come out of his bedroom. Bad news is that he went back into his bedroom,” Mal says, retaking his seat next to his wife.

  “What did he say?” I ask.

  “He said that he needs time. He’s processing.” Beck places her hand on the top of my brother’s thigh and squeezes. They look to one another and offer each other a smile before returning their gaze back to Jacks and me.

  “Where are you staying?” Mal asks.

  “There’s an inn nearby that I was planning on giving a ring.”

  “You can stay here. I mean my bed is really small but—”

  “Why don’t you come and stay with me at the inn?” Jacks asks me.

  Panic lodges in my throat. What if Pop needs me? What if something happens to Mal or Beck? What if…?

  “I should stay here,” I say quietly, looking away.

  “You’re not going to retreat, Cam,” Mal says to me sternly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re not going to pull away. Go with Jacks. That’s better than you two making all sorts of noises in your bedroom. Which by the way, I never want to hear.”

  I stand awkwardly at the door of the room. I’m not sure what to do with myself. My mind races with all the what ifs and I’m mentally making a list of things I need to do tomorrow. I should be back at the house. I should be there just in case I'm needed.

  Pop coming out of the bedroom was great, but it wasn’t him. He wasn’t his usual put-together self. He was flustered, unkempt and unfocused. He didn’t acknowledge the individuals in his house in the grand way he normally would. His heart is broken and there’s nothing I can do to help him. Staying here, will ultimately help my Pop, I think. But then if I stay here, I lose Jacks. I can’t ask him to sell his part of the business with my brother and move back to Sydney. He has his life in Vegas, he has so much invested there, while I have a measly minimum wage job and that’s it. Wait, I don’t even have that; I’m jobless. Now I lose the ability to see Mal and Beck whenever I want.

  I have Jacks.

  I have my brother.

  I have Beck.

  No Matter what is chosen.

  I cried. I cried a lot today. So much so, that my eyes are swollen and my head is pounding.

  As soon as we got into the town car, Beck pulled a box of Kleenex and pain relievers out of her purse. Like Mary Poppins and her bottomless carpet bag, she followed that by pulling out some bottled water. I tried my best to hide my laugh at everything she pulled out that I snorted, which caused my brother to look at me oddly.

  Jacks held my hand or had his arm around me all day long. Not one moment passed when he was not touching me and that in itself was extremely comforting. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t been here. I wasn’t aware of how much I would need him, and I’m scared to think of what it would have been like if he hadn’t been here today. Realizing that makes my thoughts of the future even more confusing. I want to be with Jacks, but I also need to be here for my Pop.

  Pop was silent and didn’t look anyone in the eye the entire day. When we all left her gravesite, he lingered behind and sat in front of the plot for a while before making it back to the waiting town car. When we got back to the house, Pop retreated into the bedroom and didn’t come out for the rest of the day. Malcolm, Beck, Jacks and I put on smiling faces despite the sadness and spoke to the various
guests who had some part of Ma’s life. I recognized maybe half of the people who came to the house, but they all seemed to know who Mal and I were.

  It was a challenging day, emotionally and physically. Now that it’s over, my feet are killing me, so Jacks is massaging them as we sit together on the wicker couch on the back patio. The sky is multicolored and the air is crisp, the smell of salt from the harbor flooding my senses. The neighborhood is silent, allowing the sound of clinking dishes to carry from the kitchen.

  “I’m going to miss her,” I say quietly.

  “From what I remember from when Mal and I were at uni, she was quite the woman.” He nods. His eyes and effort are focused on the pad of my foot.

  “She liked you, you know.” I smile.

  “Yeah? Did you tell her about us?” he tilts his head in wonder.

  “I may have mentioned it once or twice.” I think back to the conversation I had with my mom the night after Jacks and I spent the night together, the night he gave me a lap dance and then took me to his room.

  “Hey, Ma. So, I kind of met someone. Well, I didn’t meet someone new, but I kinda like someone.” I smile into the phone. I hear Ma gasp on the other end.

  “And who would this suitor be, trying to get his donger into your knickers?” she croons.

  “You remember Jacks, Mal’s friend?” I giggle. God, I’m giggling. I’m an adult and I’m giggling to my mother over a guy.

  “Oh, Jacks. I adore Jacks. He’s a stand-up guy.”

  “We started dating and it’s going really, really well.”

  “He’s such a lovely lad.” I can tell she’s smiling by the tone of her voice.