After Summer

by S R Silcox

  “Do you know him?”

  “Everyone knows him.” The way she says it, I’m not sure that’s a good thing.

  “I’m actually his daughter, Riley.”

  “Oh.” She purses her lips and looks me up and down, like she’s sizing me up. She squints her eyes and leans in closer. And then all of a sudden, she smiles. “You look like your mother.”

  That throws me. “Do I?”

  “It’s that red hair of yours,” the old lady says, pointing vaguely at my head. “Your mother had wild hair when she was your age too.”

  This has me intrigued. “Did you know her?”

  She ignores my question. “Too good for your father, that one.” She clicks her tongue. “Couldn’t tell her though. And look what happened.” I’m just about to say that the cancer had nothing to do with my dad, but again, she continues the conversation without me. “Never should have married,” she says, shaking her head.

  I’m about to ask her what she means by that when Dad steps around the corner, a coffee cup in his hand. “Riley.” He looks surprised to see me. He sees the old lady and says, “Hello, Mrs Marsh.”

  “Scott,” Mrs Marsh replies. I notice the hint of wariness in the way she says his name.

  “What can I do for you?” Dad asks, directing the question to Mrs Marsh.

  “Oh, nothing,” she replies. “Just catching up with young Riley here. Telling her how much she looks like Amy.”

  Dad’s eyes narrow but he says, “She does, doesn’t she?” Before Mrs Marsh can say anything more, Dad says, “If you’ll excuse us, Mrs Marsh, I have a very important appointment to keep with my daughter.”

  “Oh, yes, of course. Wouldn’t want to take up any of your valuable time.” She smiles sweetly, but there’s a little bit of venom in her voice. “Lovely to see you again, Riley.” She pats my arm and wanders away.

  Dad unlocks the office door and I follow him inside and into his office. This one looks like he’s never here. “Do you even work here?” I ask.

  “Of course I do. Why do you ask?” He takes a sip of his coffee.

  I glance around. “It just looks so tidy.”

  Dad laughs. “Trudy keeps the mess hidden away for me. I can’t see clients in a messy office.”

  “I guess not.”

  “So,” Dad says, sitting back in his big leather chair behind the desk. “This is a surprise. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. I just thought since you were so busy, I’d come and see you.” He looks a little uncomfortable for some reason. “That’s okay isn’t it?” I ask.

  He smiles. “Of course it is. I’m just, really in the middle of things at the moment, that’s all.”

  I stand up. “Sorry. I should’ve called first. I’ll let you get back to work.”

  As I turn to walk away, Dad says, “Riley, wait. We can have a chat while I drink my coffee. I could use a break anyway.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. Why not?” I sit back down and he asks, “So, are you settling in okay? Julie tells me you’ve been spending some time with Jason.”

  “Yeah. Jason’s been pretty good actually. He helped move all the boxes and furniture from the container yesterday.”

  “Did he?”

  “Yeah. That’s actually why I’m here. I was wondering if you wanted to go through them with me. Help me decide what to keep.”

  “I actually have to be in Townsville tonight for a meeting first thing in the morning,” Dad says.

  “Oh, well it can wait until you get back.”

  Dad shifts on his chair. “I don’t know, Riles. That’s yours and your mothers’ stuff. I’m not sure whether I’d be the right one to go through it with you.”

  My heart sinks but I don’t tell Dad. Instead I say, “That’s okay. I can sort it.”

  “Julie could help,” Dad suggests. “She’s pretty good at that sort of thing.”

  “It’s okay. Brooks is coming over this afternoon to help me get started.”

  Dad sits up a little straighter. “Brooks is? That’s nice of her.”

  “She’s got the day off, and she offered, and it’ll be great for us to catch up. I can’t believe she’s still here. I thought she’d be long gone after she finished school.” Dad doesn’t reply. “Do you remember when we were kids?” I ask. “We used to get into trouble, huh?”

  “Some things never change,” Dad says, and he doesn’t smile, which means he’s actually serious. I wonder what it is about Brooks that he doesn’t like, so I call him out on it.

  “Don’t you want me to be friends with Brooks?” I ask.

  Dad takes a breath and lets it out slowly. “It’s not that, exactly. I’d just much prefer it if you’d hang out with Jason. Make friends with his friends. They’re your age.”

  “What? Like Damo?”

  Dad smiles. “Good point.” He puts down his coffee cup and leans forward in his chair. “It’s been a long time since you were here, Riles, and a lot has changed. People have changed and Brooks, well, she’s not the same person you used to know.”

  “I’ve changed too,” I reply. “Everyone changes, Dad. You’ve changed. You never used to be so busy and now you are.”

  Dad sighs. “Riley, that’s just the way life is. Everyone has to make money somehow and I’m sorry I’m busy right now, but hopefully when all this is over, I can take some time off.” Conveniently, his phone rings. He looks down at it, but doesn’t answer it. “Look. I have to get going before it gets too late. There’s a lot of stuff about this project that I really want to tell you about, but it’s going to have to wait until I get back from Townsville.” He stands up and drops his coffee cup into a bin beside the desk. I stand up and follow him to the front door. As he unlocks it, he says, “I know you want to talk to me about your mum and I promise I’ll find some time as soon as I get this project sorted, okay?”

  “Fine,” I say.

  He holds the door open for me. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

  “Whatever,” I mumble as I walk away.

  I’m halfway back to the house when Jason rides up beside me on his skateboard. “Hey,” he says. “What are you up to?”

  “Heading home to get started on the boxes,” I reply. Jason must pick up on my mood, because he takes my arm and pulls me to a stop.

  “What’s up?” he asks.

  “Has he always been this painful to talk to?” I ask.

  “Who? Scott?”

  I nod.

  Jason shrugs. “Not really. Why?”

  “I just get the feeling he’s avoiding me,” I reply. “Like, he says he wants to spend time with me, and then he gets a phone call and has to go to work. As soon as I bring up Mum, he fobs me off.”

  Jason picks up his skateboard, tucks it under his arm and starts walking. I fall into step beside him. “He’s always been good with me,” he says. “I guess he’s just trying to get into a new routine with you here.”

  “I haven’t seen him in nearly five years, Jason. Don’t you think he should want to spend some time with me?”

  “Yeah, of course,” Jason replies. “You’ve just picked a bad time to come up here that’s all.”

  “I had no choice.” I say it a little harsher than I mean to.

  Jason sighs. “I didn’t mean it like that.” We walk on in silence for a while and then Jason says, “Scott’s saved my arse a lot of times. He’s a good guy.”

  “Why? What have you ever done?”

  “Well, despite what you may have heard, I’m actually a bit of a rebel.”

  “You? No way.”

  “Yes way,” Jason says. “I’m only allowed to finish school next year because Scott’s buying new sports uniforms for the football and soccer teams.”

  I stop dead. “Dad bribed the school to stop you from being expelled?”

  “When you say it like that, it kinda sounds bad.”

  “That’s because it kinda is,” I say. “Does that incident have anything to do with why Brooks
got expelled?”

  Jason laughs. “Nope. That was all Brooks’s doing.”

  “So what happened?”

  Jason scratches at the side of his skateboard with his fingernail. “I forgot to take my Leatherman out of my bag and for some reason, that was the day the Principal decided to do a random bag search.”

  “What’s a Leatherman?” I ask.

  “It’s a tool I use for fixing my skateboard,” Jason replies. “Anyway, the Principal found it and apparently thought I’d brought a weapon to school, so he hauled me up to the office and was threatening to expel me.”

  “For leaving a tool in your bag?”

  “Yeah, well, I was also on my third strike, and they have this three strikes and you’re out policy.”

  “So why didn’t you get expelled?”

  Jason shrugs. “I was sent home and Scott drove straight back down from Townsville the same day. Interrupted an important meeting with investors. Next thing I knew, I was being suspended and that was it. I could’ve missed almost a whole year of school if it wasn’t for Scott.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. “You’re so lucky.”

  “Yeah,” Jason says. “In hindsight, getting suspended three times in the first couple of months of school wasn’t very smart.”

  “When was your last one?”

  Jason thinks for a moment and replies, “End of March I think? I didn’t put a foot wrong after that one though.”

  I stop dead. “In March?”

  “Yeah,” Jason nods. “Why?”

  “That’s when Mum got her final diagnosis.” A million thoughts start running through my head right then, and the one thing that sticks is the fact that Dad interrupted an important meeting to come back to Roper’s to stop Jason from getting expelled, but couldn’t even call me back for a week about Mum’s cancer. “I can’t even—” I close my eyes and suck in a breath, trying to stop the anger that’s rising in my chest.

  “What’s the matter?” Jason asks.

  I turn on him, and even though it’s not him I’m angry at, he’s the one who’s in front of me. “Dad interrupted his work to help you,” I stab at the air in front of him with my finger. “But didn’t do the same for me when I needed him.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant,” Jason says, his hands up to pacify me.

  I take a breath and calm down a little, fully aware this isn’t Jason’s fault. “I know what you were trying to say. But don’t you get it? He left Townsville to help you, but not me. He put you over me.” Anger starts to bubble back up in my chest and I don’t let Jason say anything more. I turn and storm towards the house.

  “Riley, wait!” Jason calls after me but I don’t stop. He’s just confirmed everything I already knew about my dad.

  Sixteen

  Brooks

  I pull into the driveway at home and switch off the scooter. I’m pretty sure Mum’s not here because on Monday mornings, she has her book club at Mrs Hetherington’s place before she goes into her office at the council chambers in town. As I head down between the garage and the side of the house, I hear the old push mower spluttering to life. Bloody Dad. He’s got his earmuffs on at least, not that it matters because he’s already going deaf in one ear, and he jumps when I grab his sleeve. He pulls off his earmuffs and steps away from the mower so he can hear me. I still have to yell at him. “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “What’s it look like?” he shouts back. “There’s rain predicted in the next few days and if I don’t get it done now, I won’t get it done for weeks.” He turns back to the mower but I grab his arm again.

  “Let me do it.” As much as I hate mowing, I know how much pain he’ll be in after pushing that old mower around the acre block.

  Before he can say anything I step in front of him and grab the handle. “Go and do the whipper snipping,” I say, knowing that he won’t do the whipper snipping because he still hasn’t gotten the whipper snipper fixed yet. He will, however, go and potter in the shed until I’m done with the mowing. Better me being exhausted than him making his knee worse.

  He pulls a face but lets me do it. Before he leaves, he pushes the earmuffs onto my head and ruffles my hair. I hate it when he does that but I let him get away with it.

  After two hours of pushing the old mower around the yard, my legs are burning. Dad’s been out a couple of times with cold water but apart from that, he’s left me in peace. He used to be so anal about yard work that it used to drive me nuts trying to help him. The first time I ever mowed, he came out the next day, when I was at school, and went back over it because I’d missed a few spots. He also chastised me all the time for not emptying the catcher early enough. “You’re leaving big clumps of cut grass everywhere, Brooks. It looks untidy,” he’d say. Now, thankfully, he lets me do it my way. Although my way is his way because now I do it out of habit.

  One habit I do like though is the beer we have together after the yard work’s been done.

  “It’s only a light,” Dad says, handing me a clear bottle of a brand I don’t recognise.

  “Beer’s beer,” I say, taking a big first gulp and almost choking on the bubbles.

  Dad stifles a laugh. “Not to me it’s not. Your mother’s hidden all my heavies. This is the only stuff she’ll let me drink.”

  I read the label. It’s not even a standard drink. “It doesn’t really count as a proper drink,” I say.

  “Well, whatever. It’s still beer, so don’t tell your mother,” he says as he takes a long drink.

  “No way,” I reply. Mum doesn’t know it, but Dad’s been letting me have a beer with him every now and then since I was fifteen. It would be one more thing for Mum to freak out about, so it’s a closely guarded secret.

  “You sticking around for a bit?” Dad asks. “I’ve got some corned meat on the stove. Should be ready in time for lunch.”

  “Can’t. I promised Riley I’d help her go through her mum’s things this afternoon.”

  Dad nods. “You two picking up where you left off, hey?”

  “I guess so,” I reply.

  He takes a long drink, licks his lips and then says, “Just be careful.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with Riley?”

  “Nothing,” he shrugs. “She’s grieving, that’s all. Lots of…” he pauses. “Lots of feelings.” I have no idea what he’s talking about because he’s never been good at these sorts of talks. At least he tries, so I cut him some slack, because I know he’s worrying about me, not Riley.

  “Feelings, huh?”

  “Mmm-hhmm,” he says. When I don’t say anything, he looks at me. “What?”

  “Nothing. You’re just so good at this deep and meaningful stuff.”

  He picks up the bottle top and tosses it at me. We both laugh and I say, “Don’t worry about me, Dad. I know Riley’s going through a rough spot. Maybe she could use a friend, you know?”

  “Maybe,” Dad says.

  I lean back in my chair and we both drink in silence for a bit. I finish my beer and stand up. “I should get going. I just called in to pick up some more of my stuff.”

  Dad sighs. “More stuff? So you’re not planning on coming home any time soon?” He’s disappointed. I can tell by the tone in his voice. Mum’s probably been on his back about me, and whatever else she’s been finding to nag him about, since I’ve been gone. I feel guilty about that because for years it was me she was nagging and leaving Dad alone.

  “I don’t know, Dad,” I say, which is the honest truth. “Uncle Pete’s is closer to work, so it’s just better for me at the moment.”

  “What happens after summer?” Dad asks. “You have to decide what you’re doing about school next year.”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t decided.”

  “Don’t leave it too long.”

  “I know. I just need a few weeks to think about things.”

  “As long as you do,” he says.

  “I have to get going.” I pick up my empty bottle and the bottle tops and head i
nside.

  Seventeen

  Riley

  Brooks is quieter than usual and I’m wondering if it has anything to do with Jo. I watch her as she cuts open a box and peers inside. “Looks like pots and pans and stuff,” she says. “Want me to unpack it?”

  “No. I don’t need any of it. Put the whole box into the charity pile.”

  “Your choice,” she says and carries the box over to the corner where all the charity stuff is being put. She comes back over to the pile of boxes and opens another one. I seal up the box I’ve got (it’s more kitchen stuff) and lug it over to the charity pile. I walk over and stand next to Brooks.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Fine,” Brooks says. I don’t believe her. She flips open the top of the box and we both peer inside. “Towels,” Brooks says, and she digs down deeper. “Feels like it’s all towels.”

  “Charity,” I say.

  “Don’t you want to keep any of this stuff?” Brooks asks. “There’s a whole house full here. You could use all this when you move out into your own place.”

  “I know. It’s just old though.”

  “You’re getting rid of it because it’s old? What are you, a snob now? You just want brand new shiny stuff?” I know she’s joking but there’s an edge to her voice.

  “You can have any of this stuff you want,” I say. “If you want to store all these boxes, you can have them.”

  “I don’t want them,” Brooks snaps.

  I put my hand on her arm. “Brooks, something’s wrong. Do you want to talk about it?”

  She sighs. “Just, stuff on my mind I guess.”

  “Stuff, huh? Does this ‘stuff’ have anything to do with the ‘stuff’ Jo’s angry with you about?”

  Brooks looks up at me, a slight smile on her face. “Some of it.” She takes a deep breath. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’m supposed to be here helping you. So, let’s just get this organised for you, okay?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I am. Today is supposed to be all about you.”

  “I feel like it’s been all about me for the last year. I think I’m a bit over it.”