by Dick, Amanda
“Aw, don’t be shy - you’re amongst friends.” Max winked up at Kate from his place on the floor, sprawled on the orange, shag-pile rug in front of the fireplace.
Lacey refilled both their wine glasses then set the almost-empty bottle down on the coffee table in front of them, settling back into one of the long, comfortable sofas.
“No bloody cards,” Gavin announced disgustedly, collapsing into the sofa beside Lacey and drawing her in close. “They’ve disappeared. We’ll have to think of something else to do.”
“Spin the bottle!” Max chuckled, deftly ducking out of the way as Lacey lobbed an empty beer can in his general direction.
“Jeez, watch it! You came within a kilometre of me, there.”
Gavin smiled, reaching for his beer off the coffee table.
“Done,” Finn said, closing the lid to the old radiogram in the corner and walking over to collapse on the sofa next to Kate. “And if you have any complaints about the music, you can take them to Nina and Jim. I did the best I could with what I had.”
The Beatles ‘Drive My Car’ filled the room and he grinned.
“Rubber Soul?” Lacey asked, spying the album cover lying on the floor next to the radiogram.
“Never any complaints about The Beatles,” Gavin nodded sagely.
Max proceeded to sing loudly along to the music.
“Oh my God - my ears are bleeding.” Lacey grimaced.
Max took another sip of his beer, then resorted to humming loudly instead.
“We have this one, at home,” Kate said, indicating the radiogram with her glass. She quickly corrected herself. “I mean, it’s Danny’s, from his collection.”
“Do you still have all his vinyl?” Finn asked.
“Yeah. I didn’t know what to do with it. Nina and Jim didn’t want it, so I just kept it.”
“You could probably sell it?” Finn suggested. “Some of those albums might be worth a bit.”
“I suppose I could.”
“Do you listen to them?” Lacey asked.
“Sometimes.”
They fell silent for a few minutes, listening to the music. Kate took another sip of wine before resting the glass on her knee. She was curled up at the other end of the sofa and yet she seemed so far away. Finn sipped his beer, eager to supress the itch he was too afraid to scratch. Glancing over at Gavin and Lacey, curled up together on the other sofa, he was overcome with jealousy. He wanted that. He wanted it with Kate, and he wanted her to want it with him.
Where did that come from? Immediately, he wondered if he was drunk. He must be, to even be thinking that way. Oh God. It’s New Years all over again. Warning, Will Robinson – warning!
Kate was staring straight out the window, into the half-light of early evening. The sky was alive with threads of purple and pink as the sun set over the hills across the bay.
“Y’know, I think I might take another swim before bed,” she said quietly, standing up and setting her glass down on the coffee table.
“You okay chickie?” Lacey stared up at her from the sofa.
Kate smiled, but Finn could see she was upset.
“I’m fine. Just feel like taking a dip. Won’t be long.” She straightened her t-shirt as she headed towards her bedroom.
The music swirled around them, but the upbeat tempo suddenly seemed grossly out of place. A few minutes later, Finn caught sight of her, wrapped in a towel, heading along the deck and down the steps.
“I’m never gonna learn when to keep my big mouth shut, am I?” he groaned, running a hand down his face. “What an idiot.”
“It was a valid point,” Gavin argued. “She hangs onto all this shit when she probably should be letting it go. It’s not healthy.”
“She’ll do it when she’s ready,” Lacey said gently. “She’s just not ready yet.”
“Yeah, just like she’ll move out of that damn house when she’s ready. How can she stay there, after what happened? The place gives me the bloody creeps.” Finn shuddered.
“I tried to talk to her about that again at New Years,” Lacey said. “I didn’t quite understand what she was getting at, but it seems to me like she feels close to Danny there. She said sometimes she can feel him, like he’s watching over her. I think she’s just afraid of making that final, big move – of letting go. I guess when she’s ready to move on, she will. It’s not our call to make.”
Finn’s heart raced. Maybe he had misread the situation at New Years – maybe they had both just had too much to drink? It was New Years. Everyone gets drunk at New Years. His head spun as he tried to recall everything that had happened between them since – texts, phone calls, emails. Had he been looking for signs that weren’t there?
Max got up off the floor, staggering slightly. “Another beer?”
Finn shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Me too,” Gavin echoed.
Max headed out through the French doors along the deck and Gavin’s eyebrows shot up. “See what I mean?” he said, keeping his voice low.
Finn watched as Max made his way along the deck towards the beer fridge. “Do you think he’s still having nightmares about…y’know?”
“I’d say so.” Gavin frowned.
Finn watched Max through the window as he closed the fridge door and made his way back along the deck to the French doors, his steps not as sure and steady as they had been.
“He seemed okay earlier, didn’t he?” Lacey asked hopefully.
The Beatles sang in the background, but her question remained unanswered.
Chapter Eight
Kate floated on her back, staring up at the sky. The sun was still setting and the gathering dark suited her mood. Finn was right – she should probably sell Danny’s vinyl collection. She didn’t listen to it nearly as often as she used to. Selling it just felt wrong, somehow – as if she were pushing Danny away, throwing the things he loved after him. It felt so final. She wasn’t sure she was ready for ‘final’ yet. ‘Final’ meant ‘the end’ – the end of one chapter of her life, the beginning of the next one. What would the next chapter hold? Would it be better or worse than this one?
She turned over onto her stomach, keeping herself afloat with her arms. The water temperature seemed warmer now. It was refreshing, like a cool bath. The setting sun had taken the heat of the day with it, and the difference between the air and the water temperature seemed minimal. She began swimming slowly towards the pontoon that floated in the middle of the bay.
Memories – that was all she had left now. That was one of the reasons she had stayed in the house she and Danny had shared. She still saw him there, sometimes – as if an echo of his former self had been left behind. She would glance up and swear she saw him walking past the doorway out of the corner of her eye, as if she had just missed him. It was comforting. She had tried to explain it to Lacey at New Years, but she wasn’t sure she had been able to make her understand. She didn’t know if she understood it herself most of the time. It was just a feeling, and lately she had been noticing it less and less.
If she moved out of the house, would she lose what was left of Danny? That was one of the reasons she hadn’t made a decision about the new job. Taking it would mean not only leaving the house, but also leaving Auckland. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that kind of upheaval. The list of pros and cons she had made to help her make up her mind had only confused her more.
Reaching the pontoon, she grabbed hold of the ladder. She didn’t feel like climbing up onto it anymore. Instead, she took a few minutes to catch her breath. She turned back to the house and admired it from this angle. Tucked into the hillside as it was, it seemed to be hiding from the world. The lamps in the living area had been switched on, throwing rectangles of golden light over the lawn. She could barely make out the shapes inside the house as she tried to pick out her friends.
Max was worrying her. It felt like he was slowly removing himself from her life and she missed him. She missed the long phone calls that went on well
into the early hours of the morning. She missed meeting up with him for weekends at Gavin and Lacey’s. She missed him – the old Max, the one who was just as much of a prankster as Danny was, the one who always seemed to know when she needed to talk, the one who had been there for her in the months after Danny’s death. That was the Max she missed, the Max she was anxious to get back. This Max, the one here with them this weekend, seemed like a stranger. And then there was the drinking. That wasn’t normal, either.
As the sun sank even further into the horizon, she began swimming slowly back to shore. When she got closer, she saw a figure sitting on the beach, next to where she had dropped her towel.
“Just doing my lifeguard thing,” Finn called out, over the noise of the cicadas.
She couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, Hoff.”
He shook his head, sucking in air through his teeth. “Low blow,” he chuckled, standing up.
He handed her the towel as she walked up the beach out of the water. She felt self-conscious. Just like earlier, she could feel his gaze on her. It both excited and frightened her.
“Thanks,” she said shyly, taking the towel from him and wrapping it around her modestly. She gathered her wet hair into a tight ponytail and twisted, wringing it out.
“Isn’t it gorgeous here?” she murmured, turning her back on the house. “I keep forgetting, in between times.”
“I know what you mean.” Finn sat down on the sand, clearly in no hurry to go back inside.
She joined him, drawing her knees up and hugging them. Despite her best efforts, she was far too conscious of his exact proximity to her. Now, he was so close that she could feel the heat of his body next to hers, and it made the hair on her arms stand on end.
“So, how’s things with you?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Fine.”
“How’s work?”
“It’s good – busy, but good.”
“Whatcha been up to?”
“Not much. Just working, really.”
“You’re not giving me much to work with here, Red.”
She wanted to tell him about the new job offer, but she didn’t feel like talking through her pros and cons list again just yet – especially when he was a bigger part of her decision than she was willing to admit.
“Sorry,” she mumbled nervously. “What can I say? Life’s pretty hum-drum these days.”
His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than was comfortable. She could feel herself blushing, and she hoped like hell it was too dark for him to notice. Turning her attention back to the scenery, she focused on the sky, artfully splashed with purple and pink. The water lapped softly against the foreshore. Even though it was a warm evening, she shivered again. Was he looking for something, or was it her imagination?
“Oh come on – since my social life is pretty much dead lately, please tell me yours has been a bit more exciting?” he urged, jostling her playfully with his elbow.
“Sorry,” Her lips curved into a smile. Anytime he touched her, she seemed incapable of keeping the smile off her face.
“Jeez – don’t make me dig.” He jostled her again. “No mystery man? Come on – you can tell me.”
Her smile faded as the line of questioning became uncomfortable. “No time for mystery men. Like I said, it’s busy at work, and I’ve been coming home exhausted. I fall asleep on the sofa most nights.”
“Hmm. All work and no play? You know what they say about that.”
He was right. She had no work/life balance anymore. What had seemed like the right idea at the time – to bury herself in work – had lately left her feeling empty, like she was missing out on something. What had happened between them at New Years had just highlighted that.
God – New Years again. Why can’t I just forget about bloody New Years?
“Y’know, I don’t think Danny would’ve expected you to be on your own forever,” he said tentatively.
Even the cicadas seemed to hush. She felt violated, as if he had been inside her head and read her mind. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, not with everything she had hidden away in there.
“I know that,” She reached down to grab a handful of sand, watching as it sifted through her fingers, its coarse texture soothing, somehow. Immediately, she picked up another handful, conversation deserting her. What might Danny have wanted for her? Did he even think about her at all, that day? Did he stop for a moment and look into the future, wondering what might become of her, left to pick up the pieces of her life?
“You want to know what I think?”
“Something tells me I should say no to that.” She forced a smile that felt more like a grimace.
She hoped that the quip would keep things light-hearted, but she was mistaken. Finn was staring back at her intently, his blue eyes dark in the failing light.
“I think you’re scared.”
The smile died on her lips. To hear it said out loud like that was like a hammer blow to the solar plexus. She felt violated all over again. Was it that obvious?
“It’s okay to be scared,” he went on gently. “No one could blame you for that. Just don’t let it stop you from living your life.”
“I am living my life,” she said, before she could stop herself. She wished she had taken the time to remove the desperation from her tone, but it was too late now. “I might not be out there living it up every night, but I’m doing my best.”
Why was he looking at her like that – like he wanted to take her in his arms and make the pain go away? She lost a couple of moments fantasising about that very thing, before he spoke again.
“I’m not criticising, Kate – I’m just worried about you.”
“Well don’t. I’m fine.”
She turned her attention back to the sunset, steadfastly ignoring the urge to cry. Why did he have to ruin a perfectly good conversation by bringing that up?
“I’m sorry.” The sincerity in his voice, together with the fact that he now had his hand on her arm, was almost her undoing. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset,” she said, a little too quickly. She cleared her throat softly. “I’m just worried – about Max.”
It wasn’t a lie, and she barely even felt guilty about using Max as a diversionary tactic. Finn squeezed her arm gently before letting it go. Just like that, she felt alone again, swimming in a sea of uncertainty.
He crossed his forearms over his knees and stared out over the water. “I know. Me too.”
“What should we do?” she pushed, desperately hoping he had an answer, at least to Max’s problem.
“I don’t know. I suppose I could try talking to him again, but I don’t know what good it’ll do. He’s not really into the whole amateur psychology trip.”
“Maybe we could try talking to him together?”
“Yeah, maybe we could. It’s worth a try.”
He didn’t sound convinced and her heart sank. As much as she hated to admit it, Max’s behaviour was not foreign to her. The similarities between Max and Danny were beginning to scare her. Suddenly the scenery laid out before them became enormous, all-encompassing, almost frightening. The sun had been swallowed by the hills and darkness descended over the world. It had ominous overtones that made her shiver, and it had nothing to do with the temperature on this balmy summer evening.
Chapter Nine
“Another beer?” Max asked, awkwardly getting to his feet.
Both Gavin and Finn declined but Max didn’t let it worry him. He swallowed the last of his beer and stood up, weaving his way unsteadily out onto the deck to get another drink. He heard the conversation in the living room die away, but he was past caring. The alcohol was doing its job, dulling his senses finally. Soon, he would pass out and he welcomed the nightmare-free oblivion.
When he came back into the house again, Kate had thrown the blanket off her shoulders and was getting up off the sofa.
“Anyone for a pre-bedtime cuppa?” she asked.
He shook his head and t
wisted the top off his beer bottle. “I’m good.”
A chorus of voices took her up on her offer.
She draped her arm around his waist as she passed, pulling him towards the kitchen. “Come on, give me a hand?”
He let her guide him over to the kitchen, where he tossed the bottle top at the rubbish bin in the corner. He missed it spectacularly.
“Whoops.”
“You’re gonna pick that up, right?”
“What? Oh yeah – I mean, yes Mum.” He smiled crookedly as she filled the kettle with water and switched it on.
He took a sip and walked over to pick the bottle top up off the floor. It seemed to move under his hand, but he finally managed to pick it up and it made it into the bin this time. He leaned back against the kitchen counter to watch Kate.
“Why don’t you let me make you a cup of coffee?” she asked.
He threw her a sideways glance as he purposefully took another long swallow. The last thing he wanted now was coffee. That would sober him up and he definitely didn’t want to be sober – not here, not tonight.
“I don’t want coffee.”
Jesus, get a grip. You sound like a two year old having a temper tantrum.
“Come on, I’m just trying to help you out here,” she cajoled, reaching for the bottle. “You’re gonna need to make another beer run into Picton tomorrow at this rate.”
“So?” He moved the bottle out of her reach, locking eyes with her. “I don’t want coffee, Katie.”
Her face fell.
Why is she being so damn bossy? Can’t she see that I need this?
“Max, please.”
He could see that she was worried. It was written all over her face, that pinched look she got when she was anxious about something. He didn’t mean to come off like a petulant child, but he couldn’t help it, he felt trapped. Couldn’t she see that? He wanted to shout at her – at all of them – that this was why he had stayed away from them for so long. But he didn’t.
He looked down at her, one hand flexing on the counter’s edge behind him, the other firmly wrapped around the beer bottle at his side. His heart sank. She didn’t deserve this. Misguided as she was, she was only trying to help. Relenting, he surrendered the bottle. His one crutch, his one magic solution to all the misery, and she was taking it from him. He didn’t have to ask himself what now. He knew what would happen.
