by Nina Levine
“What do you want for dinner?” she asks.
I give her a sideways glance. “You.”
Christmas is only days away. We haven’t spoken about it other than her knowing I’m going home to the farm. Star hasn’t any holiday plans.
I’m not sure what I feel, yet I will miss her. I’m not a big one for goodbyes, so rather than Star come over tonight, I cancel our plans and send her a text.
Me: I’ll see you in a couple of weeks. Merry Christmas.
She replies quickly.
Star: Thanks. Same to you.
There’s no neediness coming from Star, neither does she compete for my attention. Maybe she has her shit together and is not clingy like other chicks, yet I sense a change in her, and I can’t quite put a finger on what it is.
I’m in my room packing a suitcase when Braxton walks in.
“No Star tonight?”
“No. I’ll see her after Christmas.”
“So, you’re going to keep seeing her?”
I stop folding the T-shirt in my hands and give him a look. “I’m going to keep fucking her. I don’t know why it concerns you, especially since I’ll be out of here when I return.”
“Be careful,” he says sharply.
“I am.”
He frowns at me. “Don’t believe for a minute her dad doesn’t have her followed. You’re not fooling anyone.”
I place the T-shirt in my case and pull out another from the wardrobe. “Why would they care?”
“She’s one of them. From what I hear, Phoenix still has ideas for Star within their club. They hope she’ll forgive and forget, so Bear and her will get back together. They all have each other’s back. Remember that.”
“She can’t stand him. And how do you know this?” I ask, even though I’m connecting the dots to what she previously told me about the Silver Hell MC.
“They support our club.”
“In what capacity because we’re not talking about superfans here.”
Brax folds his arms. “I’m not privileged to all the details, only it’s like a silent sponsorship because we can’t really go sticking up signs saying ‘sponsored by Silver Hell MC’ everywhere. They want to help the club, and there’s a shitload number of membership seats at every game.”
I nod my head in understanding. Most of what he said I couldn’t give two fucks about, apart from the dipshit who knocked her around, and her dad wanting her back with him is a concern.
“I’ll talk to her after Christmas,” I say to get the monkey off my back.
It seems a lot of people don’t want Star and me together. The problem is, I’m not ready to let her go, no matter how dangerous it is for us to be together.
7
Yellow grass borders the side of the road as far as the horizon. It’s not unusual this time of year. The road to the horizon hazes, the sun beating down on bitumen. Only a fool would stand outside barefoot and risk severe burns.
I’ve lost count of the times I have driven along this road. It rarely changes in December—always dry and damn hot. I prefer the months of winter where the fields turn green and the reassurance of rainfall. I turn up the volume of my Spotify playlist blaring through the speakers of my car. My Adelaide home isn’t far from the airport, so when I arrived, I took an Uber home. Without wasting time, I did a quick check to make sure everything was in order before taking my Audi from the garage. It’s been a few months since she’s been for a spin. I miss this car. It is what it is. I can’t keep thinking of Adelaide as my home since the farm is my actual home. Yet, I belong to none. I won’t let the demons take over my thoughts, so I focus on the lyrics rather than what lies ahead.
I click forward to the next song, hoping it distracts me.
How will Rhett react to seeing me?
Will Mum be in good health?
Is the orchard thriving or more of a family burden?
Flick.
Cold Play’s “A Sky Full of Stars” plays through the speakers.
Fuck. I don’t flick.
Instead, I recall Mum singing it one lonely night on the back deck. The song hit the charts years after Dad’s death. Immediately, Mum decided it was a song that resonated when sitting on the back verandah at night and looking up to the night sky. Somehow she felt connected to Dad.
It fucking broke me watching her sing the song, and yet she did it with love in her heart. Not sadness. She was never bitter or asked why me? Why us?
I visualise the farm.
The shed.
The tractor.
I’m returning home for the first time in a long while, and I still don’t have the balls to go near that shed.
Another hour passes, and the sky turns to orange and pink like water paint with splashes of colour low in the horizon.
I’m only a half-hour from home.
Bright lights blind me from a vehicle speeding along in the opposite direction. “Turn your high beam down dickhead,” I mutter.
Not so many years ago that dickhead was me.
How my mother put up with my shitty teenage behaviour is beyond me. What’s more impressive is she managed it by herself. Coming home messes with my head, but fuck, I’ve missed her. The dark shadows of night prevent me from seeing the farm with only the moon to light up the land. My headlights highlight the long shadowy rows of apricot and orange trees. Fire destroyed some of our orchards eight years ago. Where has that time gone?
I reduce my speed since the entrance to the farm is not well lit. Two old tractor tyres, ten-foot apart, are landmarks to the dirt driveway. I veer off the main road, switch off my music and sit in silence for the seconds it takes to reach the primary residence set off the main road.
There are no other cars parked near the house, so I assume Rhett’s car is in the shed alongside Mum’s car. It’s time we updated her wheels. Attempt to negotiate why she needs to sell Dad’s old Ford station wagon, again.
I chuckle as I turn off the engine. I know where I get my stubbornness.
Flicking the switch to the trunk, I grab my bag and head toward the back porch.
“You’re here.” The warmth of my mother’s voice comes from a chair. She’s sitting in the dark with only the moon casting light on her silhouette.
I take the steps two at a time and drop my bag to hug her tightly. She buries her face into my chest. “It’s so good to have you home. I’ve missed you, my darling.”
She smells of lavender and citrus, probably from making orange juice ready for our breakfast in the morning. “I’ve missed you, too.”
She keeps one arm around my waist as she opens the sieve wire door, and we step into the kitchen. She flicks on a light, and I smile. “I see Rhett and Tori have been renovating.”
“Yes. I had to choose the colours, and I tried to keep it simple, except your brother insisted on the expensive appliances.” She shakes her head. “Do you like it?”
“I do.” I smile at her, and she beams her bright smile back at me. Only this time, I notice the deeper lines around her eyes and in her forehead, and how her hair is much greyer than the last time I was here. “How are you, Mum?” I ask in a serious tone.
“Better, now you’re here,” she says, and those lines near her eyes deepen again with a genuine smile.
I lean down to kiss the top of her head. “Talking of my brother, where is he?”
“In town grabbing some things. Both Tori and he worked all day. It’s the best crop of apricots we’ve had since the fire, and we’ve had orders from fruiterers in Adelaide wanting locally sourced stone fruit. “It’s going to be a good Christmas, Dusty.”
“I hope so.” I look around the kitchen, impressed by Tori’s design ideas—black, grey, and white cabinetry with hints of timber to give it a country touch and black appliances with shiny copper finishes. I walk over to the black sink with copper tapware. “Do you like these colours? I mean, I do, and Tori has done an outstanding job, but do you? Are these colours you would’ve chosen?”
“Darling, I ha
ve no idea about modern things. I was happy with my old oven. Your brother wanted to do this. I like it, and I can work out how to operate everything easy enough. I wanted nothing fancy but to be user- friendly for an old girl like me.” She washes her hands in a separate sink for hands only, and I smile knowing Tori was particular about not washing hands in the kitchen sink.
Then Mum’s words hit me.
“You’re not old, Mum.” I can’t imagine losing Mum, only I can’t deny she has aged and won’t be around forever, even if it’s what I want to believe. Rhett has renovated the kitchen because it’s Tori and his future in this house. “What else have they renovated?” I ask bluntly. “I hope you had input because it’s your home.”
“Come see the new bathroom.” She smiles at me. “I have my own quarters now.”
She leads me to her room, which is sectioned off to give her privacy. The additional rooms were not visible from the side of the house.
“He’s extended the house and—” I stop and stare at the floor-to-ceiling windows with a small garden and fountain lit up at night as her personal haven. Beyond there, I envisage the orchard. “Wow. You always wanted your little garden outside your bedroom window.”
“Yes.” She beams and seeing her delight warms my heart. “They’ve done a magnificent job.”
I stride over to her and hug her tight. “If ever you want more, you tell me, okay? It’s never a problem, and I wish you’d let me spoil you. I love seeing this smile on your face, and I want to make you happy.”
“My dear boy, you’ve made me happy by coming home.” She tightens her arms around my waist. “Having you home gives me more joy than anything else. Having my boys at home with me at Christmas is the best Christmas present any mum could ask for. I know it’s harder for you, and I understood why you—”
“Hey, let’s not talk about it. I’m glad to be home.”
“And I bet you’re hungry. I have some warm apricot pie in the oven for your dessert. But first, let me get you some dinner.”
Last night, I sat with Mum on the back deck waiting for her homemade pie to settle before I headed to bed. I love Mum’s cooking, only it’s something I can’t frequently eat without the club’s dietician having a coronary if I told her the amount of sugar and butter Mum uses in her cooking. It’s why everything tastes so damn good.
After talking about meaningless things like the stars in the sky and the deep colour of this year’s crop, I went to bed before Rhett and Tori returned. I figured they stayed at the local pub and caught up with Rhett’s old friends.
Something I used to do.
Before…
Pots clang in the kitchen. The day before Christmas and no doubt Mum plans to feed us as though we haven’t eaten in a month. I swear her cooking had something to do with my abnormal height. I chuckle lightly imagining her overlooking us at mealtimes to ensure we ate everything on our plate. Fond memories were made here, most smothered by my nightmares.
“Morning,” I say when I wander into the kitchen.
Steam spirals from a half a dozen pots toward the new exhaust fan positioned over the stove.
“How many people are you cooking for?”
“Morning,” Mum sings without turning around. She keeps stirring a pot while I lean in and kiss her on the cheek.
“Do you want bacon and eggs? Tori collected fresh eggs this morning from the chook pen.”
She gives me a sideways glance, her gaze lowering to my underwear. A grin creeps across her lips. “Put some clothes on before you scare the girl.”
“Scare?” I remark. “Girls find my package impressive in these briefs.”
“Exactly,” she says without another look my way.
“You think she’ll notice my dick is bigger than Rhett’s?”
Mum shakes her head and sighs. “Always a competition right back from when you were toddlers.”
“What’s a competition?” Tori says from behind. I turn to my sister-in-law wandering into the kitchen from the back door. She looks nothing like the girl I knew when she worked on the television reality show, Contest, where she met my brother.
Tori’s hair is cut short in a pixie cut. Her skin is still flawless, but there’s not a hint of makeup, and her usually pale skin is more sun-kissed than I remember.
Unabashed, I fully turn, fists on hips, knowing her lips will part. I worked hard to get this body, and I’m not hiding it. My cock, well that’s good genes.
“The biggest dickus amongst my brothers.”
Her gaze lowers. “Oh,” she whispers, eyes wide. “I…” her gaze lifts and her cheeks turn a shade of red, knowing I caught her staring at my package.
“What?”
“Dusty,” Mum says sharply. “Get dressed.”
I chuckle lightly. “I dunno, Mum. Does Tori want me to get dressed?” I raise my eyebrows.
Tori’s lips part, only the joy of teasing my prudish sister-in-law ends when her husband yanks open the sieve wire door and lets it clang shut. By the look on his face, he heard some of the conversation.
“You might be taller than me, not so much I won’t kick your arse. Do what Mum says.”
“Merry Christmas,” I say dryly.
Rhett strides toward me and hugs me. “It’s good to have you home. We’re not having any further conversation before you get some fucking clothes on.”
“Tell him, Tori,” I shoot over my shoulder. “Do I win?”
“Piss off,” Rhett yells.
Now this feels more like home.
After I finish breakfast, we all sit around the large wooden table discussing the plans for the next few days. I’m arguing with Mum about chores, wanting her to do less and us boys cook more.
Rhett is going over the day’s plans with Tori, including driving into town tonight.
“We can all drive into town later for a Christmas drink,” Mum says. “If you help Rhett with the last of the pickings, we can finish up early.”
“Sure,” I say.
“I’ll drive,” Tori pipes up. “I won’t drink.”
We all know how much Tori wants to fall pregnant, and if there’s a tiny chance she is, then she won’t risk drinking alcohol after all the problems they have both been through.
“Okay, then. Where do we start?” I push up from the table. “I haven’t seen the orchard in years, so I’m excited to see the progress you’ve made.”
“I’ll get morning tea ready for you,” Mum says as though fattening us up gives her so much pleasure.
“I’m glad you didn’t ask me if I’m pregnant yet,” Tori whispers when we’re finally outside. “I’m learning to say no to your mum. People assume I’m already pregnant,” she says with a smile and touches a hint of roundness near her stomach.
I laugh once. “Yeah. My dietician would scream if she knew what I was eating here.”
Football divided our lives. Yet we have an understanding. Tori is the closest thing I have to a sister, and I know she’d have my back. There was a time I considered opening up to her. Tell her about my demons. Only she had her own battles, and I’m not prepared to offload mine onto anyone else.
8
After lunch, I stand on the back verandah looking out to the rows of apricots, orange and plum trees.
The fields beyond the orchard are ploughed.
Mum comes and stands beside me, her gaze forward to where I am staring.
“We have come a long way. Since your father’s death, we’ve all contributed in some way, and I stand here now a proud woman. A proud mother. A proud wife. Nothing will take away my love for any of you, and I hope if you need anything, you will come to me because that’s what mother’s do.”
Without looking at her, I place a hand on her shoulder. “I haven’t been here to help, but I hope the money was useful.”
“You’ve helped plenty.” She looks up at me, and I lower my gaze to meet hers. The same blue eyes I inherited are full of emotion. “Especially in those early years when I needed you most.”
&nbs
p; “I was just a boy. I did little. Not like I can now. Tori and Rhett are making a difference. You should be proud. This place is amazing.” I take in the farm from one corner to the other, and pride swells within me. A sense of belonging that I have shut out over the years because deep down, the realisation hurts. The one place I want to be, I can never stay because I’m reminded of what I did.
“Come with me.” Mum loops her arm through mine, mainly to support her as she takes each step until she is on level ground. Keeping her arm linked with mine, we meander among the rows of the apricot trees. “When I lost some of these in the fires, I was heartbroken. We had the best apricots in the country.” She winks at me. “It didn’t break me because they are replaceable. And as it turned out, the damage wasn’t as extensive as we first thought.”
I nod and swallow hard wondering where she is going with this conversation. She leads me along a path of the farm where I haven’t been in years.
“There was a point I believed I might be out here alone. Of course, I wanted what was best for you boys, only the thought of not having anyone scared me.”
I tap her hand reassuringly. “If push comes to shove, you know I’d be here for you.”
She smiles up at me. “All of you have been good to me. Rhett finished his football career before coming back. He helped you to secure your career before he retired. It was your hard work that got you where you are today, but your brother spoke to the Thunder coach about giving you a chance because he saw the potential in you first.”
She leaves out the part about how I was a reckless teenager and always in trouble with the law, so no doubt my brother had a tough job convincing any club to take me on, even if I am nearly seven-foot tall.
“Jase stayed here with me, and now he has a chance at a football career. It seems someone was looking out for me, making sure one son was always here to help.”
“I should’ve been here more,” I murmur.