The Model Wife

by Tricia Stringer

  “We’ve got a lot to be thankful for,” Milt said. “It’s poor Veronica who’s drawn the short straw.”

  The look of sorrow on his face stabbed Natalie as sharply as any knife. She reached a hand for the bench as the off-kilter feeling returned, her brief sense of relief swept away.

  There was a knock at the back door.

  “I haven’t had my shower,” Kate moaned.

  “Go and have it.” Bree gave her sister a gentle push. “The rest of us can look after one visitor till you get back.”

  “Answer the door, Laura, and take Jack into the den.” Milt was back giving orders. “I’ll bring in some drinks. We’ll get out of your mother’s hair.”

  Natalie turned to the bench and gripped it with both hands.

  “Can I help?” Bree asked.

  Natalie shook her head. “You go with the others and rest that leg. There’s not much left to do here now.”

  And just like that, she was alone again and the family she loved were welcoming the cuckoo into her home.

  Kate glanced around the table. The meal had started out a bit quiet but now everyone except her mother was contributing to the discussion about the possibility of Jack changing sheep breeds. Laura had made the two men laugh with her suggestions of brown-and-black ones. She’d indignantly defended her choice saying how much cuter they were than plain old white. It was a safe topic for dinner and they’d thrown themselves into it.

  “I suppose you’ll be wanting rainbow-coloured sheep next,” Bree said, which brought a deep chuckle from Milt. He’d mellowed since his initial reaction to Laura’s hair, reassured it would wash out.

  It helped that they all had a few drinks under their belts. Kate had gone easy. She was tired enough without throwing alcohol into the mix. Her mother was on her third glass of wine. Not that Kate was counting but Natalie wasn’t a big drinker. She sometimes shared a beer with Milt at the end of a hot day or had a glass of red with him in the winter. But she always kept a bottle of white in the fridge in case of visitors.

  Still that’s what Jack was, a visitor. Not that he was drinking wine and he’d only had two beers but he was talking to her father like they were old mates.

  Kate glanced at her mother. Natalie’s eyes were glazed as if she wasn’t listening to the conversation but was somewhere else. Kate hoped there’d be time over the weekend for a chat, just the two of them, before her mother went back to school and Kate went home.

  “Have you thought any more on restoring your tennis court, Bree?” Jack’s question dropped on the conversation with all the subtlety of a bomb.

  “Are we going to have a tennis court again?” Laura asked.

  Kate looked from Bree to her father to her mother, their faces all set like stone.

  “I’ve been talking to Dad about it.” Bree turned to her mother, her look defiant. “I know you don’t want a tennis court but I think it would be fun to have one again. A while back I called over to see how the Halbots maintained theirs.”

  Kate was the only one who remembered the time when the tennis court had been the focus of any spare weekends at the Kings’ and they were only vague memories, fed by old photos of Granny and Pa holding wooden tennis racquets, standing on the black tar court with neighbours. Her dad had been in some photos and so had the Halbots. By the time she’d turned four the only thing the tennis court was good for was riding her three-wheeler bike and even then she had to dodge the weeds pushing up through the widening cracks. The black tar had been ripped up years ago and now the space was overgrown and the fence that surrounded it was falling down in places.

  “It’s a lot of work when you don’t play tennis,” Kate said.

  “I played a bit last summer and I really enjoyed it.”

  “Owen’s an excellent pick-up for the team,” Jack said.

  “Oh, so that’s why you took up tennis.” Laura made exaggerated winks across the table at Bree.

  “Jack and Owen both play number one for their teams.” Bree smiled at Jack. “It’s a toss-up each time to see who’ll win.”

  “I think I’d better take up tennis then,” Laura said. “Sounds like there’s lots of talent.”

  “We have no need for a tennis court here.” Natalie sat her knife and fork in the centre of her empty plate. Her words fell like a wet blanket, ending the discussion.

  “Will you be able to give me a trim while I’m home, Laura?” Kate thought it best to change the subject.

  “Sure.”

  “Are you a hairdresser?” Jack asked.

  “Yep.” Laura grinned at him. “If you need a haircut let me know.”

  “Or a colour,” Bree said.

  “Careful what you get yourself into, Jack,” Milt warned.

  Jack dragged his fingers through his hair. “My sisters never have the same hair colour for long and I don’t remember what their original colour was any more.” He turned to Laura. “But they’ve never had rainbow stripes. Does it still feel like hair?”

  “Of course.” Laura tilted her head towards him. “Touch it and see.”

  He picked up a small lock, rubbed it between his fingers and let it go.

  “It’s only colour,” Laura said. “Just the same as your sisters, only a different colour I assume.”

  Milt gave a snort. “I can’t imagine Jack’s sisters dying their hair like a rainbow.”

  “Perhaps Laura’s trying to tell us something.” Bree had a mischievous look on her face.

  Milt thumped the table. “Hell’s teeth. This isn’t your way of telling us you’re gay, is it?”

  “Calm down, Dad.” Kate glanced from Jack to her mother who was still staring into the distance as if she wasn’t actually present.

  “Chill, Dad.” Laura shook her head, making the rainbow fluff out more. “If I was going to tell you I was gay I’d just tell you without any props.”

  Kate winked at Laura then turned back to her dad. “There’s no way Laura is gay, Dad.”

  “Look at all the boyfriends she’s had.” Bree smirked and wiggled her eyebrows.

  “So now you’re suggesting I’m a tart.” Laura glared at them.

  “That’s enough of that kind of talk.” Natalie pushed back her chair with force, making it teeter a moment before settling back on the floor.

  Silence fell around the table once again.

  “We’re only joking, Mum.”

  Natalie’s face flushed at Bree’s snappish response. “Time for dessert.” She plucked up her plate.

  “It smells good,” Milt said.

  Kate picked up her own plate then reached for her father’s and the others passed theirs. She took the stack to the sink and opened the dishwasher. Her mother was taking an apricot pie from the oven.

  “Girl talk,” Milt joked. “I’m always outnumbered here.”

  “Oh, Dad,” Laura teased. “You love having a house full of women. It brings out your feminine side.”

  “Humph!” Milt tried to look affronted. “Your father’s lucky to have you, Jack.”

  Kate glanced at her mother as the pie dish thumped loudly on the wooden chopping board. Her jaw was rigid. “Are you all right, Mum? Shall I serve the pie?”

  “I’m fine.” Natalie pulled her shoulders back and picked up a knife. “I’ll dish up. Pass the plates please.”

  Natalie cut wedges of pie, levered them up and slapped them into the bowls. Kate had the feeling that everything was far from fine.

  The bedside lamp illuminated the old book lying open on Natalie’s lap. She sat on the edge of the bed and behind her she heard Milt’s noisy, deep breaths. Not quite a snore but almost. He’d already been asleep by the time she’d finished in the kitchen and made her way to their bedroom. More words from the managing the home chapter surfaced as she glared at him. It is the model wife’s responsibility to provide her husband a happy home…the single spot of rest which a man has upon this earth for the cultivation of his noblest sensibilities.

  She’d slid down in the bed, her arms rigi
dly at her sides. Milt got his rest, that was for sure. Wide awake, her own light still on, she’d gone back over the evening and Jack’s conversation, his face and the way his gaze had kept returning to Laura. Several times she’d almost tapped Milt’s shoulder, to wake him and ask him outright but then she’d drag her hand back. If he said Jack was his son, what then? Could they just go on as normal? She was terrified she couldn’t answer that question. Finally Natalie had eased back the covers and sat up. That’s when she’d taken the book from her dresser drawer. It was as if it was taunting her. She’d glanced at Milt, still gently snoring, and flipped it open.

  Chapter Two stood out in dark print at the top of the page and below that, ‘Friends are Welcome.’ The model wife should accept her husband’s friends and receive them in her home. Twenty-seven years ago she’d written NO in bold letters, underlined it several times and then in very small print as if too afraid for it to be easily read she’d written but not into your husband’s bed.

  Stuck on the page beside it was a photo of their tennis court. Veronica and Bob stood at the front beside Milt and Natalie, everyone smiling. She remembered the fun they’d had that day. It had been the last time the Kings had hosted a social tennis match – a month before the glitch.

  She gripped her mouth with one hand. Why was she torturing herself with this now? She shook her head at her own silent question but she knew the truth. Somehow she’d forgiven Milt his indiscretion, they’d moved on and made a decent life, but today, when she’d seen Jack Halbot, she knew that the life they’d rebuilt together had been founded on a lie. Jack was so like Milt he had to be his son, and the very thought of it made her feel sick.

  She sat, eyes closed, gripping the book in her hands until she was startled by a particularly deep snort from Milt. He made some snuffling noises then flung himself onto his side, his face towards her. She reached out and flicked off the lamp and a new resolve flowed through her. She had three daughters, Milt’s daughters, and they were not going to be displaced by a son from the other side of the quilt. Tomorrow she would have it out with Milt and they’d plan a way forward, one which involved keeping their distance from the Halbots…all of them…and a holiday would be the perfect place to start.

  Nine

  “Morning, Mum.” Bree eased herself onto a kitchen chair and tried to find the best position for her aching leg. She’d had trouble going to sleep then slept in and now she felt tired and scratchy.

  Natalie looked over her shoulder. There were shadows under her eyes too. “How are you?”

  “Sore and sorry.”

  “Coffee?”

  Bree nodded. Natalie put a cup under the coffee spout and turned on the machine. She brought it to the table with the packet of paracetamol. “Take a couple of these.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Should I take a look?”

  “I already have. There’s nothing to see. The plaster is clean, no blood seeping, no redness around the edges.”

  Natalie swept a lock of hair back from Bree’s face and rested her hand on her cheek. “You’ll live to fight another day.”

  Her gentle touch made Bree feel like a little girl again. “It’s only a few cuts and bruises.” Her tone was sharper than she’d intended and her mum stepped back as if she’d been stung.

  “Would you like some toast?” Natalie moved back to the kitchen bench.

  “Thanks.” Bree took a deep breath and tried to quell the surge of annoyance at being housebound. “I assume Kate’s gone with Dad?”

  “And Laura. Graeme can’t help today. They left an hour ago.”

  “Perhaps I can go out later.” Bree swallowed the tablets and shifted on her seat to find a more comfortable spot.

  Natalie glanced at her. “I suspect you were told to rest that leg for a few days.” The toast popped and she put it on a plate and set it in front of Bree.

  Bree slapped butter on the toast. “The doctor said to keep it dry for twenty-four hours then come back in seven days to have the stitches removed.” And he’d also said immobilise it for a couple of days but she didn’t tell her mum that.

  “Your dad will manage with the crew he’s hired. Kate’s staying till later in the week and Graeme will be back on Monday.”

  Natalie went back to the food she’d been preparing and Bree sipped her coffee. She badly wanted to be out there with them. She loved being outside working and especially mustering. She also felt a little guilty that she was going to ask for time off once tailing was finished. She’d said yes to Owen. He was heading north in a week’s time and she was going to follow as soon as she could.

  Natalie snapped the lid on a container of sandwiches and put them in the fridge then brought her cup and sat beside Bree.

  “Since you’re housebound for a few days it’ll be a good chance to get reacquainted with the computer and the account-keeping.”

  Bree took another sip of her coffee. This was the perfect time to tell her mother about her plans. Then they could talk to Milt together. Natalie would smooth over any objections he raised.

  “Would you mind if we put it off for a bit longer?”

  “Why?”

  “I’m thinking of trying something different.”

  “Different in what way? We’ve got the best software there is, according to the accountant.”

  “I don’t mean with the books, I mean different as in work…off the property…for a while.”

  Natalie was quiet for a moment then she placed her cup carefully on the table. “When did you decide this?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it for a bit.”

  “Have you?” Natalie studied her with a concerned frown then rose and took her cup to the sink. She turned and shook her head. “It’s just that I was hoping to get your dad away from the place for a few weeks. We haven’t had a proper holiday in ages and…well, our wedding anniversary is coming up and I thought we could go soon.”

  “It’s not a special anniversary is it?” Kate was the one who kept up-to-date on those things and she hadn’t mentioned it.

  “No, but we didn’t get away for our thirtieth…or for any anniversary for that matter. I’ve decided we need a break.”

  Bree sunk lower in her chair. “You could go when I get back. Take some leave from school.” She’d hoped for empathy from her mother, not opposition.

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “It would only be for a couple of months.”

  “Months!” Natalie’s eyebrows rose. “Where?”

  “Marla…with Owen.”

  “I see.” Her mother swung back, put her cup in the dishwasher and shut the door with a thud.

  “I’ll wait till after tailing, and Laura will be here.”

  “What do you mean Laura will be here?”

  Blast. Bree had thought Laura had talked to her mum. On the way back from the hospital yesterday that had been her plan, to chat while everyone else was out. “She’s quit her job.” Bree winced at both the worry on her mother’s face and the pain in her leg as she straightened up.

  “Why?” Natalie shook her head.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “It always is with Laura.”

  It was unlike her mum to be grumpy. Bree felt her own annoyance rise again. Laura had had plenty of time to tell their parents she was staying. “I thought she’d told you. She’d planned to.”

  Natalie sighed. “Well, I’ve got accounting to do.”

  And with that she was gone, leaving Bree feeling angry and guilty all at once. The bloody paperwork was another job on its own. Bree had to admit she’d been avoiding taking it over. Natalie had always done the books and she wasn’t going anywhere. Bree couldn’t see why she just didn’t keep doing them. There was no point in taking it on anyway if she went to Marla for a few months or even more. She’d decided not to say how long it could be when she’d seen her mother’s reaction.

  Bree hobbled to the sink with her cup. Even though her dad had said the property could be hers one day he w
as showing no signs of letting go of the reins yet. They had a rough plan in place but nothing was to be finalised until Laura turned thirty. That was six years away. Bree needed this break.

  From deeper in the house she heard music. The large dining room rarely got used and a corner of it had been set up as an office. Her mother often played her CDs while she worked up there. Bree pushed away the guilt. It wasn’t as if Natalie hadn’t done the books for years. A few more months wouldn’t matter, surely… unless there was some urgency now. Her mother had remained vague about the trip to Adelaide and continued to be out of sorts. What if there was something she was keeping from them?

  Natalie stared at the computer screen in front of her but the figures wriggled and jumped as tears rolled down her cheeks. She dabbed at them furiously. There’d been no chance to talk alone with Milt this morning, no opportunity to bring up the topic of Jack again. She’d imagined having it out with Milt and regardless of the outcome regarding Jack’s parentage she’d decided they’d rebuild; they’d done it before. She’d been clinging to that thought, and also the chance to get away, but now it seemed raising the idea of a holiday would be pointless. If Bree went off for that long a time there was no way Milt would leave the property. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand Bree’s need to get away, she felt it so strongly herself, but the timing was all wrong.

  Natalie took up the clip of accounts from beside the keyboard and started sifting through them. She’d been struggling to stay on top of the account-keeping for months now. Goodness knows how she’d sort it in time for the end of financial year. Somehow her heart hadn’t been in it and she’d really hoped Bree would show more interest, but she didn’t want to push her and now there was no point. Natalie couldn’t shake the worry and the disappointment that overwhelmed her. After ten minutes of fruitless fiddling she pushed back from the desk. Bree had said Laura was back to stay for a while but Laura hadn’t mentioned it. Her bedroom door had been shut whenever Natalie had passed. She decided it was time to investigate.