I looked away from him to see Mum smiling at me with her nostalgic face on. I wondered if she was reliving the past, a time before she thought she’d ever have more kids. For a long time, she’d expected me to be an only child. It was only during my most selfish moments, when I felt like the whole world was against me, that I ever regretted that I wasn’t. Despite the fact my siblings could drive me crazy in a way no one else could, I loved them all.
“Listen to your sister, Brockie,” Mum said. “That sort of advice will keep you out of trouble.”
“Don’t call me Brockie, Mum, it’s a baby name.”
The statement was so similar to Max’s that a shudder ran through me. Was Brock . . . I decided I didn’t want to know and pushed it far out of my mind.
“Well, you’re my baby,” Mum said.
“Nah-uh, Nikki is your baby.”
“She’s my baby baby. But all of you kids are my babies. You always will be.”
“Even Pheebs?” Beth asked.
Mum met my gaze. “Especially Pheebs.”
While Brock went off on some tangent, Beth slid in beside me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “I missed you, sissy.”
“Me too, baby girl, me too.” As I rested my cheek on the top of her head, a queasy sensation grew in me. Could I really leave this, my family, behind and go overseas?
Could I not?
After all, just two days earlier it had gotten to the point where the arguments, shouting, and constant noise of my siblings had driven me out of my mind. If I ever wanted to work out what I wanted from life, I needed to be away from it all, from every expectation and appointment, to try to figure it out. If I didn’t, if I never worked out who I was and wanted to be, how could I ever be happy?
We made it through dinner, baths, and bedtime stories. Eventually, between Mum, Dad, and me, we’d wrestled the youngest three into bed. Only Brock was still awake, but he’d disappeared into his room. After the encounter with Max, I didn’t want to know whether he was in there playing with his iPad or something else.
Mum offered me a mug of warm Milo and led me to the dining table. I sat down at the head of the table, and she and Dad sat side by side along one edge.
“So Dad says you want to go to the States?”
Nothing like getting straight into it. “Yeah. Well, maybe. I don’t know. I just want to get away for a while, you know? Find some space and find me.”
“And you thought disappearing on a bike you’ve been banned from riding to fly to Sydney with a stolen plane ticket was the best way to get us to listen to your request?”
Dad sat behind her with a smile fixed on his face and one eyebrow raised. Probably happy that he wasn’t the one on the receiving end of Mum’s redressing for once. Over the years, she’d developed a way of quietly asking questions to guilt the other person into confessing everything.
“No, of course not. I just needed to get away for a bit. It’s suffocating having to be on all the time.”
Mum leant forward and placed her hand over mine. “I probably understand that more than you think, honey. When your dad first came back into our lives, I saw pretty quickly what life was going to be like at his side. I mean, the very first family outing he took us on, he was mobbed by fans wanting autographs.”
Dad’s smile fell, and as if she saw it—despite him being behind her—Mum’s hand left mine and reached for his. It was a reminder of how in tune they were, even after more than fourteen years together. Maybe because of it.
“Not that I minded, of course,” she said as she turned to give him one of the smiles she reserved just for him. “This life. Everything we have, it was worth it. But that’s a choice I made, and racing was a choice your dad made. You never really had the opportunity to choose this life. Not the fame part of it at least. It was thrust on you long before you were ready, and yet you’ve stepped up and faced every challenge with such grace.” Her eyes were soft as she looked at me, all the things she hadn’t said burning in her gaze.
The sight made my throat close over with emotion. Despite the petty issues I had, I really did have awesome parents, role models in every sense. That wasn’t enough to make me want to change my course, though. If anything, it made me want to do it more. I wanted to be sorted, to know what came next before I did something wrong.
“And that’s probably why we load you up with stuff far more than is fair. You’re a lot like your dad.”
I rolled my eyes and sank back into the chair at the all-too-familiar statement.
Mum chuckled. “Because,” she emphasised the word to stop my temper. “You both internalise so much. When you’ve finally had too much, you snap. It’s not a bad thing, honey, just how you are,” she added when I frowned at her.
It was like she knew me better than I knew myself. She probably did—she’d been dealing with both me and Dad long enough.
“I think one other thing we’ve taken for granted is how wonderful you really have been. We’ve never had to put up with any massive arguments or teenage rebellion.”
Dad looked like he was going to argue.
“And pink hair dye and black nail polish don’t count as rebellion,” Mum said, countering his argument before he even issued it.
Even if I hadn’t known his distaste for my chosen hair colour, his reaction to her words—slumping away again as if he had nothing else to contribute—spoke volumes.
“And?” I prompted, waiting for her to reach the conclusion I knew we were speeding toward. The “we don’t think you’re old enough to go to the US alone” conclusion.
“And I think that a couple of months alone overseas will be good for you.”
“But—” The arguments I’d been preparing during her speech left me. “What?”
“What?” Dad exclaimed at the same time, clearly demonstrating his irritation at Mum’s betrayal. It was odd for Mum to side with me over him—usually, he’d take my side in everything, which meant Mum either agreed with us both or he would fight her for me. Despite his assurance that if Mum was okay with me going overseas, he’d be okay with it too, it was evident he wasn’t even close to okay.
“Really?” I all but squealed before remembering most of the kids in the house were asleep.
“On the proviso that you find someone to go with you. And that you’re back in time for your next race at the end of July, because you’ve got a commitment to the team.”
I couldn’t stop grinning as I leapt from the table and wrapped my arms around her neck. “Thank you!”
Before he could argue, or try putting his foot down, I moved to Dad and gave him a hug too, repeating my thanks.
“I’m going to call Angel and see if she can come with me!” I took off before either of them could change their minds. If I had my way, I’d have my tickets booked before I went to sleep that night. At least that way, there could be no changed minds, not without lost money at least.
“Hey, girlie.” Angel’s standard greeting was more than welcome in my ear. “What’s up?”
“What’s your schedule like between now and mid-July?” Since school had finished, she’d been concentrating on her modelling career. With her tall but athletic frame, her bikini body was nothing short of amazing, and she tended to get the majority of her bookings over the warmer months. She was sure that would continue until she broke into the Milan fashion scene or something like that—she had a different dream every month. Long-term they all revolved around fashion design or photography, but she was flaunting it while she had it until she got there.
“Um, nothing I can’t cancel. Why?” She couldn’t hide the suspicion in her tone. Maybe she wasn’t even trying to.
“Because I need to ask you a huge favour.”
“Uh-huh, what trouble have you got yourself into now?”
“Mum and Dad are on board with me going to the States!” I practically screamed the words at her. We’d discussed the idea of a US trip after graduation during our last year of high school, but hadn’t got there yet because of our conflicting
schedules. Well, our conflicting schedules and the fact that I’d been positive Mum and Dad would never let me leave the country without one of them accompanying me.
“No way!”
“Uh-huh.” I ran my free hand through my hair as I spoke to her, needing to do something to dispel the nervous energy racing through me. “With a couple of conditions.”
“Let me guess, the first is that you need a chaperone.”
I grinned. She knew me too damn well. “And you were the first person I thought of.”
“I’m not sure if I should feel flattered or used.” I could almost picture her reaction, the pursed lips and hands on her waist.
“Flattered, my angel, always flattered.”
“When are you leaving then?”
“As soon as possible. Two weeks?”
She hummed, and the sound of turning pages came down the phone. Despite being modern about everything, she still kept an old-fashioned appointment book for her schedule. I couldn’t do that, even if I wanted to because there were too many contingencies and other people involved. Instead, I relied on the blips and beeps of my phone’s calendar to keep my appointments on track.
“Doable,” she said after a moment. “What are you thinking? Road trip?”
“Kind of . . .” I trailed off, unsure how to tell her my actual plans.
She laughed, no doubt understanding my intention. “You want to ditch me the moment we land, don’t you?”
I joined in with her laughter. “Maybe not the exact moment. But this is something I need to do alone.”
“As if I haven’t had to listen to that conversation a thousand and one times.”
“That’s not true!” I exclaimed. “It can’t be any more than a thousand.”
She laughed. “Count me in. I’ll try to line up some meetings with agents and fashion houses for when you ditch me.”
We discussed possible flight itineraries and dates, and I grabbed all of her passport details so I could get Audrey to book the flights for us. It was Audrey’s job to arrange all travel for Emmanuel Racing; she had enough contacts to get a far cheaper deal than I could alone.
Once I disconnected the call with Angel, I ran back downstairs to where Mum and Dad were sitting in the middle of what seemed like a heated conversation. I pressed my cheek against the wall, trying to make myself as invisible as possible as I listened in.
“I don’t understand why you’d agree to this, Lys,” Dad said. His voice belied the anxiety he felt, and his irritation that Mum had acted opposite to how he’d obviously expected her to.
How I’d expected her to as well, to be honest.
“I don’t see what the problem is. You’d already agreed.”
“No. I told her that it was okay if you said it was okay.”
“That’s as good as agreeing.”
“No, it’s not.”
I held my breath as I waited for Mum’s reply.
Mum sighed. “I’m not always going to be the bad guy, Dec, and it’s not fair of you to try and make me be. Besides, I think she needs this. It’s not going to hurt her.”
“It could,” Dad said. “I mean, there are so many guns. And they drive like lunatics. And don’t even get me started about the muggers and rapists.”
“She could walk across the street tomorrow and get hit by a bus.”
“I don’t understand how you can be so blasé about this,” he groaned.
I glanced around the corner just in time to see Mum move to sit in Dad’s lap. He opened his arms out to accommodate her straight away. Despite their disagreement, they weren’t fighting. Their natural, easy affection was something of a staple from my childhood and it comforted me to see it now.
“It’s not blasé,” she said. “But we do have to realise she’s growing up. She’s not our little girl anymore, as much as we want her to be. If we put our foot down now, she’ll likely disappear as soon as she hits eighteen and we can’t stop her.”
Dad rested his head against Mum’s heart. “I’m not ready to let her go.”
Mum rested her cheek on the top of Dad’s head. “I don’t think either of us will ever be, but we can’t punish her for that. And we can’t deny her the chance to live her life to the fullest while she’s able to either.”
They still hadn’t seen me. Tears pricked my eyes as I debated what to do. I could pretend I’d only just come down the stairs and ignore what I’d heard, crawl quietly back up the stairs and try to forget it, or confront it head-on.
Pushing off the wall, I cleared my throat to announce my presence. One glance at my face no doubt revealed how much I’d heard. Instead of looking ashamed that she’d been caught talking to Dad about me, Mum simply opened her arms, leaving a space for me to join their embrace. I willingly stepped into her hold.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not trying to hurt you guys.”
“I know, but it’s not easy watching your little girl grow up,” Dad said when I wrapped my arm around his back.
“You know I’d stop if I could,” I said.
He chuckled and the solemnity of the moment passed as we all seemed to reach a silent understanding.
“So?” Mum prompted, releasing me from her hold.
“She’s on board.”
Mum and Dad both chuckled and I grinned at them. Now that it was actually happening, now that I was actually going to get a chance to explore me with no one else around, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders and the crushing sensation in my chest had dissipated.
“So, Dad, do you think you’d be able to get Audrey to book the tickets?” I asked.
“So you’re not going to hack my emails and ask her to book tickets yourself this time?”
“Well, I mean, I can do that if you think that’ll be easier,” I teased as I nudged him with my elbow.
“I’ll do it,” Mum said. “At least that way I know I’ll get a copy of the itinerary.”
Both Dad and I laughed. There had been far too many times we’d both forgotten to pass on details of our schedules. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Mum weren’t our manager as well and didn’t need the details to ensure we weren’t double-booked or hadn’t booked a flight out too early.
Over the next half hour or so, the three of us sat around the table and worked out as many details as we could without having specific travel dates.
The rest would have to wait until Monday.
WITHIN TWO WEEKS, I had all of my paperwork organised and packed away and was waiting with Mum at the airport. Dad had stayed at home with everyone else. Before I’d left the house, I’d gone around and had teary goodbyes with all my siblings for most of the morning. The only ones unaffected were Brock and Nikki. Brock simply asked if he could have my computer if I died, and Nikki had mashed her teething rusk into my hair when I’d hugged her goodbye. Beth, on the other hand, had to be prised off me as I climbed into the car.
I’d already checked my travel pack, crammed full of my clothes and everything I might need on the trip, and just had a small bag that contained my passport, ticket, prepaid credit cards, affidavit from Mum and Dad about me being a minor travelling overseas alone, and medicine that I’d need during the trip. To my embarrassment, Mum had added a packet of condoms to the top of that bag just before we got out of the car. “Just in case,” she’d said before moving on to the next topic to avoid an awkward conversation, for which I was thankful.
“I can’t believe we’re going to miss your birthday,” Mum said. It was the umpteenth time she’d said it, but I figured it was still playing on her mind that it would be the first birthday ever that she wouldn’t be with me to celebrate.
“It’s okay. We can video chat. You won’t even notice I’m missing.”
“But it’s your eighteenth.”
I leant against her side and held her around her waist. “I know. But that’s why it’s better I’m away. Could you imagine what the boys at Emmanuel Racing would arrange for me? I’d probably be drunk for a week afterward. Mayb
e two.”
“I don’t think you being away for your birthday will stop that happening. They’ll find a way to take you out and get you pissed. Or at least as much as they dare without incurring your dad’s wrath.”
I snorted. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m only postponing the inevitable.”
“Exactly.”
A moment of silence passed between us.
“We’ve just never been apart on your birthday before,” Mum added, wringing her hands together. “Never.”
“You’ll still do that favour for me, won’t you?” I asked, partly to change the subject and partly because I’d asked her to make sure Emmanuel’s eighteenth wasn’t ignored just because I wasn’t there. Usually, I insisted we have a separate cake for him and wrote him a card the same as I did for the rest of my siblings.
She nodded.
“Promise?”
“Of course, sweetheart. I know how much it means to you for your brother to get a chance to celebrate too.”
A stillness fell over both of us after the mention of Emmanuel. Just like always, I imagined I felt his presence near me. Comforting me and giving me strength as I prepared for the journey ahead.
I’d even taken the time to go visit his grave the day before to speak to him. It was the first time I’d been in a few years. As a kid, I’d headed to see him regularly with Mum. As I’d grown older, I’d asked Mum if I could stop going.
By thirteen, I was insistent that I stay away. At first, she hadn’t understood, especially when I hadn’t been able to explain my reasoning well enough. The fact was it was weird for me to visit there; to think of the remains of a days-old baby underneath the dirt; to look at the tiny, life-sized cherub on the top of the grave, because that wasn’t who Emmanuel was to me.
In my mind, he’d grown with me, supporting me along the way. Late at night, and in times when I was completely alone, I could almost swear I felt his hand holding mine. Maybe it was the fact that part of him was still alive and well inside of me—and working constantly to keep me alive.
If it weren’t for his kidneys, I would have been the one under the dirt, and I would never forget that.
Phase (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #1) Page 5
