The Model Wife

by Tricia Stringer

  Laura leaned against the dual cab, the sun warm on her face, her stomach comfortably full of her mother’s sandwiches. They’d all met in a creek bed, dry of water and offering some shelter from the chilly wind. Her mum had been waiting with lunch when they’d all arrived, Milt and Kate and the two blokes all on motorbikes and Laura in the ute. Laura had managed to get through the morning with only a few wrong turns and without her dad losing his cool and they’d finished the paddock. She hoped that meant he might not need her this arvo.

  She was only half listening to the conversation; so was her mother, judging by the faraway look on her face. Bree and Kate had been talking about music and Kate was banging on about a show her friend Sarah had gone to in Port Lincoln, but she’d stayed the weekend and Kate hadn’t been able to go because she had to work the next day. Kate was acting as if it was a big deal, as if Sarah had planned her weekend to exclude Kate. Laura wouldn’t have been surprised if that were true. She’d only met Sarah a couple of times but it had been enough for her to question the friendship. Sarah was gushy and frilly and…pink. Each time Laura had met her she’d been wearing all pink; even her shoes and fingernails were a shade of pink. Laura suspected her underwear would be too. Kate was the polar opposite; never out of jeans, always practical and reliable, a down-to-earth person with a heart of gold. That might be laying it on a bit thick but Laura did admire her oldest sister.

  “I guess friendships change,” Bree said and looked at her mum as if she’d back her up but Natalie had moved from the fallen log she’d been perched on to pack up the remains of their lunch and obviously had no opinion on the matter.

  Laura ventured one instead. “I don’t understand why you’re even friends with her.” She took a bite of the apple she’d whipped from the fruit basket before her mum had taken it away. “It’s not as if you’ve got anything in common.”

  “We have lots in common.”

  “Like what?”

  “Books, movies—”

  “How often do you go to the movies?”

  “We do the odd trip to Port Lincoln together, see a movie, go shopping. Well, we used to…” Kate faltered. “I don’t know if we will much in the future.”

  “Why not?” Bree asked.

  Kate’s pale cheeks went pink. She looked down at her boots. “Bit of a difference of opinion.”

  “Over what?”

  “Nothing much.” Kate looked up again. “Anyway we don’t have to leave the house to see movies. We do have Netflix. Unlike some other rural dwellers I know.” Kate gave her parents a pointed look and Laura, happy to have an ally, joined her in the stare. The Kings’ television was old and suggestions they should buy a new model and subscribe to any form of paid entertainment always went unheeded. They’d only installed a wireless network in the last few years. Natalie either didn’t hear Kate’s dig or ignored it. She had her head in the back of the four-wheel drive packing things away and the two blokes had wandered back to their bikes and were having a smoke.

  “We rural dwellers have enough to do without it.” Milt took the bait.

  “You’re always complaining there’s nothing to watch,” Kate said in the teasy voice she used when she was trying to cajole her dad.

  “Then I do something else.”

  “But sometimes I don’t want to do something else,” Laura said. “Sometimes it’s good to veg in front of a movie.”

  “Or binge on a series,” Kate said.

  Milt shook his head and tossed the dregs of his tea to the ground. “Now you’re talking another language.”

  “Maybe you could buy a new TV while I’m home, get Netflix. I could set it up for you.” Laura had only just thought of it and she was enthused by the idea. She’d had a Netflix subscription but she’d cancelled when she quit her job. She only had so much money and she had no idea how long it would be before she found something else. Thank goodness she had her parents to rely on till then. “You need a smart TV these days, Dad.”

  “I don’t want any electronic equipment telling me what to do.” Milt put his hands to his hips and stretched backward. “Anyway, luckily for my bank balance the shops are shut now.”

  “There’s online shopping these days, you know, Dad. Anytime, anywhere.”

  “I prefer to support our local shops.”

  Laura straightened up, warming further to her idea. “We could go into town next week, see what they’ve got.” It was out before she’d thought about it.

  “Are you staying longer than the weekend?” he asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “Is it Granny Pork Roast night?” Kate changed the subject.

  “I assume so. She usually comes out Saturday night, unless we’re not home.” Milt looked to his wife for confirmation.

  “She hasn’t said she’s not.”

  “Yay!” Laura took her sister’s hint and enthused over the prospect of another of Natalie’s roasts. “I haven’t had roast pork since the last time I was home.” For as long as Laura could remember they’d had a pork roast on a Sunday night. It had been Pa’s favourite meal and by default everyone else’s. After he died and Granny moved into town, they’d changed it to Saturday night. Granny would stay over and once a month there was a Sunday morning service at the little local church and they’d all go together.

  “We’re not having roast pork.” Natalie had joined their group again. “We had a roast last night. I’ve put a curry on in the slow cooker.”

  There was a heartbeat’s pause.

  “Whatever we eat will be fine,” Milt said. “Granny likes to see you all. Now we’d better get back to work. It’ll be dark before we know it. Kate, you go out to the ram paddock and check the water there. I’ll do the back paddock and the scrub block. You might as well go home, Laura. After that we’re done for today.”

  At the sound of the bikes the two dogs rose from their rest in the shade of the ute, but no call came from the boss and they sank down to their bellies, heads on paws. Laura turned to her mother but her relief at being exempted from further paddock work was short-lived.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Natalie was rarely so blunt.

  “I’ve come home for a while.”

  “How long is ‘a while’?”

  Laura shrugged. This wasn’t how she’d thought the conversation with her mother would go. Instead of the easy pouring out of her story she felt reluctant, uneasy under her mother’s scrutiny.

  “I’ve seen your bedroom, Laura. All your worldly possessions seem to be occupying every nook and cranny.”

  “I’m not sure how long exactly.” She looked down at the dark-brown soil beneath her boots, still parched from a long, hot summer and not enough autumn rain. “I’ve quit my job.”

  Silence lingered between them. A lone crow cawed, the long stretched-out sound underlining the quiet in a sad wail.

  Finally Natalie spoke. “I see.” Only two words but they carried a load of censure.

  Laura looked up but her mother was reaching down to pick up the thermos, the last of their lunch items.

  “At least I can help here while Bree’s out of action,” Laura offered.

  Natalie glanced back, a small frown furrowing her brow.

  They both knew the truth about that. Laura was no proper replacement for Bree.

  “I’ll see you at home.” Natalie strode away to the four-wheel drive and that was it. No surprise, no gentle questions, no chat about the whys or wherefores of her decision.

  The door thudded shut, the motor started and her mother drove away. The dogs rose, half-heartedly this time, and with no response from Laura they settled under the ute again.

  Laura had a burning feeling in her chest and the day felt dull even though there were few clouds in the sky. Her mum had said little but Laura had been rebuked as crushingly as if there’d been words. It was the way Granny had sometimes made her feel when she was a child but never her mum. Natalie’s way was to calmly outline options and, whichever path they took, Laura and h
er siblings always knew with sure certainty that there would be consequences for their actions but that the choice was theirs.

  Laura stared at the dust trail left in the air by her mum’s vehicle. She’d come home to lick her wounds, be fussed over by her mother and to think about the future but nothing had felt right since she’d arrived. It was as if she’d turned up at an alternative family and her place in it didn’t exist.

  Kate had been pleased to find the water trough clean and flowing freely, nothing to clear out or fix, so she was back at the homestead in quick time. She put the motorbike away in the shed and headed for the house. Inside there was silence. She washed up in the bathroom and walked on socked feet to the kitchen. Her mother was standing at the bench, her back to the door, looking out the window.

  “I’m back. Dad will probably be a while.” He had a lot further to go than Kate and might not be as lucky with the state of the troughs as she’d been. “Where is everyone?”

  Natalie didn’t move at first as if she hadn’t heard, then, slowly, she turned. “Your sisters are in their rooms. Bree’s resting and I hope Laura’s cleaning up. Did you know she was home to stay?”

  Kate didn’t recognise the stiff woman who stared at her with a face full of worry. “She told me the night I arrived.” She crossed the gleaming kitchen. The delicious smell of curry wafted from the slow cooker. She checked the water level in the kettle and flicked it on. “I’d love a cuppa. Do you want one?”

  “Thanks.” Natalie sat at the table.

  Kate could feel her mother studying her as she took out cups and tea bags, and poured some milk in Natalie’s cup. Finally, when she brought the two cups to the table, Natalie stopped looking at her and instead stared into her tea.

  “Are you okay, Mum?”

  Natalie’s fingers wrapped tightly around her cup. “I’m fine.” She looked up. A quick smile lifted the corners of her lips. “What about you?”

  The question had been asked but Kate could see there was no real request for the truth. “I’m fine too.”

  “You haven’t been home in a while. How’s Sean?”

  Once again the words were said but Kate could see there was no enquiring look, no desire for any but the simplest of answers. “He’s good. Having a boys’ weekend at the shack. I had a bit of free time so decided to come for a visit.”

  “And this fight you’ve had with Sarah?”

  “It wasn’t a fight exactly.” Kate still hurt from her friend’s bombshell. She wanted to talk it over with her mum but now didn’t feel right.

  “You’re good friends. You’ll make up.” Natalie took a sip of her tea then placed the cup carefully back on the table. “Brenda and I had a few fallings-out over the years.”

  “Really? You two always acted like bosom buddies.”

  “We were but even bosom buddies have differences of opinion. Brenda was never one to forgive easily. I usually made the first move even when she was the one who’d started it. You might have to step up, be the bigger person.”

  Kate gave a noncommittal murmur. She didn’t want to phone her best friend and hear more excited gabble about babies. Sarah had exploded with it. There’d been no gentle unfolding to give Kate a chance to take it in. The baby news had rocked her.

  “I’d give anything to have Brenda sitting here with me now.”

  Natalie’s words had been little more than a whisper and she was gripping her teacup, staring into it.

  “Are you sure everything’s all right, Mum?” Kate waited but her mum didn’t answer. The knuckles of her fingers were going white. “The tests you had. They were all okay?”

  “Yes.” Natalie nodded, then she looked at Kate as if she’d only just noticed she was there. She smiled again, but there was no accompanying spark in her eyes. “All results clear.”

  “That’s good.”

  “How long are you staying?”

  Kate faltered. The question had a desperate sound. “A few days. I’ll go home later in the week.”

  “It’ll be nice to have a catch-up.” The oven timer beeped. Natalie turned, gazed vaguely in that direction. “I’ve made a baked cheesecake for sweets.”

  “Granny will love that.” Kate smiled.

  “Will she?” Natalie rose stiffly from her chair, her look almost vacant as if she was trying to remember something.

  “Of course. She’s got such a sweet tooth and…cheesecake was always Pa’s favourite.”

  Kate watched her mum walk stiffly across the kitchen. It was as if a stranger had taken over her body. Kate wanted to shake her, ask what had become of her mum, the warm welcoming woman who took everything in her stride, dished out love in spadefuls and took on board anything that came along.

  Natalie took the cheesecake from the oven, set it on a wire rack to cool and turned back to Kate. “It’s a baked cheesecake served with berry coulis and cream. I haven’t made it for years.” Then she spun on her heel and left the kitchen.

  Kate clutched her cup in the hope the warmth would be some kind of steadying presence while her mother’s cup sat cooling on the table.

  Ten

  Natalie closed the bedroom door, leaned against it and stared at her dressing-table drawer as if it would open of its own accord. It couldn’t, of course. The same way the contents of a book couldn’t control your life. She left her position against the door, strode to the dressing table and wrenched open the drawer. The Model Wife still rested innocently where she’d left it. She snatched it up and flicked the pages open to Chapter Three. ‘Parents’. The model wife respects and cares for her husband’s parents and should put their needs before those of her own parents and herself.

  The first time Nat met Milt’s parents it was a hot Saturday night in February, after tennis. Milt and his team had won that day, guaranteeing a place in the finals. There’d been plenty of congratulatory drinks and then he’d told her his parents had invited her for dinner. It had only been three weeks since they’d met but Natalie had already fallen in love with him.

  “I’ll have to go home and change,” she wailed. She was wearing a skimpy summer dress that she’d been in all day and she was hot and sweaty, her make-up all melted away.

  “No time,” Milt said. His eyes were bright from too many beers and he swept her to the car with his big strong arm around her. “We’re already late.”

  “Oh, Milt,” she wailed again. She could deal with a class of twenty-eight six-year-olds but she was suddenly terrified of meeting his parents.

  “They’re used to me coming home like this after tennis.”

  She wasn’t sure if by ‘like this’ he meant dishevelled and sweaty, or with a few too many drinks under his belt or both.

  “Are you sure they invited me?”

  “Of course. It was the last thing Mum said as I went out the door this morning. She’s cooking a roast.”

  “Why didn’t you warn me?”

  “Sorry. I forgot in the rush to get to tennis.” He opened the passenger door of his ute for her. “Now that Connie’s gone back to uni it’s a bit dull at our house. Mum and Dad like to have more than me at the table for roast dinner.”

  Natalie looked from the open door back to his merry face. “All right, but you can’t drive.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He leaned in and planted a boozy kiss on her lips. “We’ll take the back roads.”

  She giggled at the brush of his stubble on her cheek but held out her hand for the keys all the same. “I’ll drive.”

  He shrugged his shoulders and handed them over, a cheeky grin on his face. Natalie climbed into the driver’s seat and her bravado faltered. Now she knew why he’d given her that look. She’d forgotten the ute was a manual. She’d never driven a gearshift car before.

  Milt grinned at her from the passenger seat. “Foot on the clutch before you start it.”

  She’d turned away from him, inspected the gear stick and started the engine. They bunny hopped away from the tennis club to a chorus of catcalls and whistles from some of h
is mates but once on the road she was fine and quite pleased she had a new skill.

  By the time they lurched to a stop outside the back gate she didn’t feel quite so clammy. She discovered a lipstick in her bag which she applied, brushed her short hair into place with her fingers and ran her hands down her crumpled dress as she stepped out of the driver’s seat. Milt rounded the ute. He was chewing some gum and had done an amazing job of sobering up on the thirty-minute journey.

  “Ready?” he said and held out his hand.

  Natalie hesitated. They’d arrived as the last of the sun’s rays illuminated the sky in a soft orange glow and now that she had time to take it in she realised how large the house before her was. She swallowed the lump in her throat and took Milt’s hand, grateful for the comfort of his strong, steady grip. She followed him inside, one step behind him, and immediately the temperature dropped several degrees. He shut the heavy wooden door while she took in the lofty ceiling and wide hall. There was light spilling from an open door ahead but beyond that the passage disappeared into shadows. She could see other doors close to them in the solid stone walls but they were all shut.

  “Is that you, Milton?” a woman’s voice called. “We’re in the kitchen.”

  He winked at Natalie then led her to the open door.

  “Mum, Dad, this is Natalie.” He stepped aside so she could walk into the room. The woman standing before her was short; she wore a loose patterned dress with an apron tied around her middle and was inspecting Natalie with a sharp gaze.

  Natalie held out her hand. “Hello, Mrs King.”

  Olive gave her hand a quick shake. “I’m sorry about my son keeping you out so late. You must be hungry. Everything’s ready. Do sit down.”

  Natalie followed Milt further in to the huge kitchen. Cupboards ran along two and a half of its walls, punctuated by ovens and a huge fridge with a matching freezer. In the middle was a large solid-wood table and the man who’d been sitting at the end of it rose to his feet. This was where Milt had got his height from. His father smiled a genuine welcome.