by Lindy Dale
“Can we play in the sand?” Paige asked, as she raced towards the water with no intention of stopping, her pigtails flying out behind her like ribbons on the wind. “Hi, Josh.”
“Yes, but leave your shoes and socks on the steps,” I called. “You know your mother will have kittens if we drag sand through the house.”
Paige halted and turned. “Really, Millie. In the grand scheme of things, what does it matter? It’s only a few grains of sand. Justin Bieber wouldn’t care about a few grains of sand on his floor.”
Tory and Michael must have thought the same. They had run ahead of Paige and were wading up to their ankles with their shoes still on.
“No, but Justin Bieber doesn’t have to live with your mother. And he probably has servants to clean up after him, so take the shoes off. And tell the twins to get out of the water before they ruin theirs.”
Not that there was much point since they’d already used them as flippers.
With an eye on my charges, I plonked down on the bench next to Josh.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi. Thanks for coming to meet me.”
Josh smiled. It wasn’t his I’m-in-love-with-you smile but more of an I’m-here-for-you type of smile. Instantly, my tension began to drain away. Josh could have that effect.
“Anything for you. What’s up?” He reached across and put his arm around my shoulder. His fingers squeezed gently. It wasn’t sexual, just friendly and nice.
“My life is shit. And this wedding is even shitter.”
“Why?”
“Sam and I had a fight. A big one.”
Down on the sand, the children had bent to inspect something between the rocks. I could see their heads close together and their fingers pointing in the same direction.
“Is it okay if we get crabs, Millie?” Paige called out.
Josh gave a lewd snicker and I shoved him in the side.
“I don’t think so,” I called back. “Mummy doesn’t like sea creatures.”
“But they’re only little. And they don’t smell. We could keep them in the wardrobe. Mummy never goes there. It’s very dark. Crabs like dark, I think.”
Josh smirked. “They certainly do.”
“No!” I replied.
“Pleeeease,” Paige begged. “We could be like the Lion and the Witch children, but with crabs.”
Josh began to splutter. Oh my God. I had to ignore that. I really did.
“Will you cut it out,” I hissed at him.
“At least it made you laugh. So. Sam. What happened? Did he fall out of love with you after I informed him of your tawdry past?”
I gave him another push in the shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He gave me a bit of a shove back. “I’m not. Now tell me the whole story. Maybe I can have a word to the big fella and sort him out?”
“You’re looking to get your face rearranged then?”
“We could always have sex to make him jealous. Despite the fact that you used to be quite shit in bed, I’d be willing to take one for the team. Only to make Sam see sense, of course.”
“Ha ha. Yeah. Not gonna happen.”
“So tell me.”
It was like the floodgates opened. I told him everything beginning with Sam’s family and how they didn’t like me; how I was convinced they were trying to make me look like a diva so Sam would call off the wedding. I ended it with Alex ignoring me.
“You have been in the wars,” he said, his face filled with sympathy.
“And I feel so shit all the time,” I added. “I shouldn’t feel like this. A wedding is supposed to be an exciting, happy time. Why do I feel like I want to be sick?”
“It’s stress. I had a pain in my guts for two months after we split up.”
Josh moved his hand from my shoulder and turned to wrap both his arms around me. His warmth seeped into my body. His fingers spread over my back, rubbing gently and I felt better. It was as if he was sucking the bad feelings out of me and leaving only the peaceful happy ones. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
I leant my head into the crook of his neck and had a bit of a cry.
“Thanks,” I said, pulling away at last. “You’re such a good guy.”
“But not the guy for you?”
I sat up straight. I rolled my eyes.
“I know you still fancy me,” he chuckled.
“God, you are so full of yourself.” Then I began to laugh. I laughed so hard the tears ran down my face and the snot dribbled from my nose but I felt so much better.
Down on the foreshore, the children were chasing each other. Three crabs were being held hostage in their outstretched arms as they ran. The kayak man had given up trying to paddle and was sitting on the jetty watching them.
“Come on, kids,” I called. “Put the crabs back and let’s get home.”
“Are you sure we can’t take them with us?” Paige called.
“Absolutely.”
“What about a jellyfish then? They don’t make noise and we have three bath tubs.”
“NO!”
Josh and I stood up. We walked over to the shore where Paige, Tori and Michael had forgotten about the wildlife and were wearing seaweed wigs and impersonating their mother.
“Oh my God, get that off your heads now.” I raced down to the sand and pulled the seaweed off, tossing it back into the water. Adele was into natural therapies but there was no way she’d go for the seaweed stench from the Swan River as shampoo. Looking glum, the children followed me back to the steps where they began to put their shoes on.
“Want me to have a word with Sam or your mum maybe?” Josh asked, while we waited.
“Nah. It’d only look like I can’t handle my own problems. He’d think I’d been talking behind his back. Thanks, anyway.” I reached up and kissed his cheek. When I got back home, I would call Sam and apologise. That cake was way over the top.
But I wasn’t changing it.
Josh walked the children and I back to the car. I buckled them in and said my goodbyes. I felt calmer, as if I could cope. I’d needed to take a chill pill that was all, and not get so worked up over things that weren’t important. After all, the main thing was that Sam and I were going to get married.
After waving goodbye, I turned on the ignition and began to reverse out of the car park. That was when Paige called out, “Hey, Millie. Hey. Look over there. Isn’t that Sam’s sister standing next to that tree? The lady in the trainers and running shorts?”
Oh God.
*****
About an hour later, the first text came through.
What the fuck is going on?
It was Sam. Obviously. All the way home in the car, I’d prepared myself for what I knew was going to happen but still my fingers didn’t seem to want to press the keys to reply. I don’t know why. I hadn’t done anything to be ashamed of. Josh was my friend. Why couldn’t I have a conversation with him without Sam being there? Of course, I realised this was all to do with the marriage proposal but seriously; we were so far past that. At least I’d thought we were.
Nothing. Let me explain, I texted back, at last.
He didn’t give me a chance. Before I’d even pressed send, I heard the bleep of another text coming through.
You were kissing Josh???? WTF!!!
I slammed my hand onto the bench. I let out a moan of despair. This was worse than I thought. I had to ring Sam or better yet, speak to him in person. I had to make him see that it was an innocent meeting.
I wasn’t kissing him. Gah!
Don’t lie.
How could he think I was lying? I’d never lied to him. Ever.
I’m coming over.
Don’t bother.
I watched as the screen went dark. Did he mean that? Did he mean it as in ‘don’t come over’ now or ‘don’t come over’ ever?
Scrolling through my recent calls, I pressed dial on his number. My fingers drummed against the counter top. Of course, he didn’t answer. I knew he wouldn’t.
He was angry with me for something I hadn’t done which he’d assumed I had. This was Amanda’s doing. God, I wanted to pull every hair from her emaciated head.
On the other side of the breakfast bar, Paige put down her oatbran muffin. She tilted her head at me, a puzzled look growing on her face.
“That was a lot of messages.”
“It was Sam.”
“Is he coming over to watch Miley Cyrus with us?”
I reached across the bench and gave her hand a pat. I swallowed the tears I could feel welling. “Not tonight. He’s a bit busy.”
Paige’s lip began to tremble. Her eyes dropped. She tugged her hand from mine and began to pick a hole in the top of her muffin. “But he promised.”
“I know, sweetie, but not tonight. Okay?”
“Is he mad at us?”
“No.”
Just at me.
Chapter 14
With only three weeks to go until the wedding and Sam playing Iceberg with me, I wasn’t overly enthused that Johnny had organised a corporate box for us at a Western Force home game. He’d planned it two weeks prior to the blow up between Sam and I. At the time, I’d thought it sweet that he’d arranged it so that everyone in the bridal party would be in attendance but, now, it sort of decreed I had to be there too. I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay out of everyone’s way so I couldn’t cause any more friction and I told him so when he’d rung to remind me. But Johnny was adamant that I was going. If Sam wanted to be a big girl’s blouse, let him but we couldn’t turn the opportunity down. I supposed he was right. If the Force had been near the top of the ladder there was no way we would have got that box.
Sam picked me up in a taxi on the Saturday night of the game. The boys had been playing away that day, so I hadn’t gone to their match. I would have felt like an idiot cheering him on, as a dutiful rugby girlfriend should, especially when he wasn’t talking to me.
I opened the door to find him standing on the doorstep wearing his sea blue Western Force jersey and cap that had been signed by the players at the pre-season function. I stood for a second thinking how lucky I was to have such a handsome man for my own. His dark hair was freshly washed and his whiskers newly shaved. A waft of vanilla aftershave filled the air around us. A brooding crinkle of annoyance that made me want to kiss him had taken up residence between his brows. Why, oh why did he have to be so hot when we were having a fight?
“Ready?” Sam asked, his green eyes shifting this way and that. No hello, no kiss, no nothing. Clearly, he was still very cross.
“Yep.” I pulled the front door closed and followed him down the steps to the car, knowing that at some point we had to have a discussion but wondering when that moment would be. Not in a Swan Taxi with Rambo in the front seat and Johnny in the back, that was for sure.
Our problem was that we were both so stubborn. Sam would never apologise for calling me a bitch and I wasn’t going to back down on what I’d said about his mother. Then there was the added tension caused by me being seen with Josh at the foreshore. If only Sam had let me explain.
I climbed into the backseat of the taxi and shuffled along the seat.
“Hi Rambo.” I tried to sound cheery. Inside I felt like I was stuck on one of those rope bridges over a ravine with rabid dogs on one side and man-eating bears on the other. No matter what I did, someone was going to lose.
“Hey, Millie. You excited for your first live Force game?”
Sam slid into the back seat and slammed the door. He maneuvered his body so that he was practically sitting on the armrest of the door, putting as much space between us as he could. I don’t know how he did that. The taxi wasn’t the widest of vehicles.
“Um, yeah. You bet,” I replied, trying to ignore the fact that Sam was staring at the headrest in front of him like a kid whose fun had been taken away. Seriously, how could I look forward to it now?
“Hey,” Johnny said, with a raise of his eyebrows and a nod in Sam’s direction.
“Hey yourself,” I said.
“How’s it going?’
“Could be better.”
From my left side, where Sam sat, I heard the sound of an aggravated grunt.
“Should be a good night,” Rambo said, oblivious to the tension that was swimming around in the back seat. “I’ve got five bucks on the Force to score first.”
“I took the Force to lose by twelve or more,” Johnny replied. “Two hundred bucks coming my way in a couple of hours.”
Next to me, Sam was suddenly alert. He leant forward across my body, his eyes widening in disbelief. “You bet against the Force?”
“Why not? The odds were good and they haven’t got a hope against the Stormers. If I’d had my head on straight, I would have put a couple of bucks on a try by the Stormers in the first minute. It’s bound to happen.”
Sam sunk back in his seat, looking more dejected than ever. “But it’s the Force, man.”
“Yeah. And they suck. I think its time we faced that and got a bit of therapy. Maybe they can include it in the membership fees? We get fuck all for our money as it is,” Johnny laughed.
“You can always switch to watching AFL, fellas,” the taxi driver chimed in.
Sam grunted. “I’d rather watch Simmo pashing that-slut-Courtney.”
Now there was a name that hadn’t featured in the conversation lately. Thank heavens.
I sat listening to their banter as we drove. Everyone seemed in good spirits and if I hadn’t been able to read Sam’s body language so well, I’d have thought he was too. But his body went as stiff as the goal posts at Rugby Park if I got close. He wouldn’t touch me. He shirked his knee away from my hand. God, he needed to get a grip. This was ridiculous.
It took about twenty minutes to get to the ground through the traffic. We hopped out and Johnny paid the taxi driver. Then he dug in his pockets and fished out three lanyards for the VIP area, handing one to each of us.
“Awesome,” Rambo said, putting his around his neck. “Prime seats, free booze and free food. A win would finish the night off nicely.”
“Or a shag,” Johnny added. “Is Mel coming tonight? She’s been looking like she’d like to get a leg over lately.”
“I heard she’s got a new found love for a certain part of your anatomy after the girlie night,” Rambo said.
“All these years, I’ve been telling her and she wouldn’t listen. Now she’s seen the evidence with her own eyes. I am irresistible.”
Sam coughed into his hand. His eyes were darker than a stormy sea. Then, without a word, he slipped his lanyard over his head and walked towards the gates without me.
“Sam,” I called to his retreating back.
“Not now, Mill’.”
I looked at Johnny. He looked at me and shrugged.
“At least he spoke to me,” I said. “That’s a start.”
“He’s a bloody idiot.”
“What’s up?” Rambo asked, twigging something was wrong.
“Nothing,” I replied and stalked off after Sam. It was going to be a long night.
When we got to the Corporate Box, the girls and Alex had already arrived. Like Sam, Sasha and Mel were wearing blue Western Force jerseys and jeans. Kirby was too, but hers was hot pink. God knows how she’d managed that. Alex had dressed for the occasion and though she wasn’t wearing a team shirt, she did have on a lovely royal blue fitted top. I smiled, leaning in to give her a hug.
“I want to apologise,” she said as we drew apart.
“What for?”
“I was rude to you the other day.”
“That’s okay. You were busy.”
“No, its not. I should have made time to listen. You obviously wanted to vent.”
“Oh well. Whatever. Friends?”
“Forever, Chica.” She turned to face the boys who were doing their best to empty the mini bar fridge that came as part of the deal. “Now, which one of you lovely men are going to get a girl a drink and explain how this game works.”
&n
bsp; I went to talk to the others.
“Hi girls.”
“Hey, Millie. Like, nice top. Is that from Kookai?”
I nodded ‘yes.’ I still amazed me how Kirby seemed to know every piece from every fashion label. She was a walking department store of knowledge.
“Your top’s cute, too. I didn’t know the Western Force wore pink.”
Kirby waved me away with her hand, “You’re, like totally, the funniest person I know. The Force doesn’t wear pink. This is, like, the limited edition Breast Cancer jersey. There’s only one hundred in the world.”
Of course.
I looked around the tiny space. “So, somebody could have told me there was a dress code. I feel like a fish out of water with you in your jerseys.”
“Sam was supposed to let you know,” Sasha tutted.
“That’d be if he was talking to me, I guess.”
“Oh God. What the fuck’s wrong now?” Mel groaned. “Seriously, that boy needs a fucking lobotomy. He’ll be lucky to get up the aisle at this rate.”
I couldn’t bear to talk about it or even think about it. Besides, it sort of felt like I was being even more of a bitch if I spoke about Sam when he was in the room. “Long story. I’ll tell you later.”
But Mel would have none of it. She took Sam by the arm, swivelling him to face her. “Why didn’t you tell Millie to wear a jersey?”
I could have sworn I saw him flush.
“Er, um. I forgot?”
“No fucking excuse. Get down to the Merchandise stand and get her one pronto. She feels like a Nancy-no-friends and it’s your fault.”
With a roll of his eyes, Sam drank down the rest of his beer and put the empty glass on the top of the mini bar. His groan was louder than the man on the loud speaker. “Is this really necessary?”
