The Model Wife

by Tricia Stringer

“I…” She shrugged, looked away from his gaze. “I haven’t seen you since then.”

  “There was no argument with Sarah, was there? It was hearing about the baby that upset you the day you met her for lunch.”

  Kate looked into Sean’s deep brown eyes studying her closely and crumpled with remorse. “We’d made a pact,” she whispered. “We’d be the childless couples. You know how hard it is when everyone else in the district has kids. Sarah and I were each other’s buffer.”

  He continued to gaze at her then shook his head. “You’re a goose.” He reached out, pulled her to him. “You can’t make that kind of agreement with someone else.” He kissed her.

  She rested her head on his shoulder. Not even your own husband. The words echoed inside her head. She’d believed Sean when he’d said they didn’t need a child if nature didn’t intend for them to have one; they had each other. His brothers had produced nieces and nephews who adored him. Maybe her sisters would have babies one day. She was happy to be that doting childless aunt but was he truly happy to remain childless?

  Only a few weeks earlier one of his nieces had been baptised. It had been a big family celebration with aunts and uncles and cousins. He’d been holding the baby cocooned in the crook of his arm, and one of his cousin’s wives had declared him a natural and wanted to know when he was going to be a dad. “There’re plenty of kids in this family,” he’d said in a jokey voice. “We’re not having our own.” Kate had been near enough to hear and she’d seen his look. He meant ‘she’ not ‘we’. It had hit her like a bolt out of the blue. Her refusal to try IVF was the reason they didn’t have children.

  She turned to him now. “You and I made that kind of agreement.”

  He sighed. “That’s not what I meant. You and I are husband and wife.”

  “But it’s not so different.”

  “It is. I haven’t changed my mind about children…unless you have?”

  She shook her head. He’d said unless. A heavy weight settled around her heart.

  Once more he moved away from her, this time to turn the light off. “I’ll need to get an early start in the morning.” He kissed her lips and slid down in the bed, reaching to pull her close as she did the same. “Good night.”

  Kate lay perfectly still, wanting to say more but not sure how to begin. Perhaps this wasn’t the right time. Once they were both back at their place, maybe. It would be difficult but perhaps they needed to revisit their decision, or had it really been her decision and Sean being the supportive guy that he was had simply agreed? His hand felt heavy across her belly and his breathing deepened. She moved his arm to the side, and he snuffled and rolled away.

  The sadness inside her swelled and added to the deepening lethargy she felt. She decided she should make an appointment to see the doctor tomorrow. Her childhood GP still practised in town. She felt more comfortable unburdening her woes to the woman who’d seen her through her teenage years, rather than to the GP where she lived. She took a deep breath and let it out gently. Just making the decision to visit the doctor eased the weight.

  Bree and Owen were finishing the last of the kitchen clean-up when Milt returned from the bathroom. He paused, watching Owen who was wiping down the bench while Bree put dishes away. He hovered looking lost. In her lifetime Bree had rarely seen her dad pick up a tea towel. He’d clear the table, put plates in the sink or the dishwasher, but that was about the extent of it.

  “Thanks for cleaning up.” Milt shifted from foot to foot. “Laura’s food’s not bad but she does create a bit of havoc.”

  “No probs,” Owen said, his face wide with his easy smile.

  “I’m glad you’re not driving back to town tonight. Probably shouldn’t have opened the second bottle of red.”

  “I enjoyed it.”

  “And Bree’s got you somewhere to sleep.” Once more Milt’s feet shuffled.

  Bree shut the cupboard with a thud. Was her dad being diplomatic or did he really believe Owen wasn’t spending the night in her bed?

  “Yep,” Owen said. “All under control.”

  “Well…great.” Milt nodded. “Will we see you again before you head north?”

  “Probably not.”

  Milt moved closer, reached out a hand. “Good luck then. I’m sure Bree will keep us posted on how it goes.”

  Owen shook his hand. “Yeah.” He glanced sideways and gave Bree a look, eyebrows raised.

  “I’m off to bed.” Milt turned away.

  Bree looked at Owen and nodded her head towards the door, adding a slight wave of her hand.

  “Hang on, Dad,” she said. “I want to have a quick word.”

  “I’ll say good night then.” Owen took her hint and left them to it.

  Milt turned back. “What’s up?”

  Bree could see his eyes were red and weary, partly from a hard day’s work and partly from the red wine, which had also added a ruddiness to his cheeks.

  “I’m going to go to Marla while Owen’s there.”

  He scratched his head. “It’s a long way to go for a visit but we can work it so you get some extra time, maybe take a week. See what happens after tailing.” He went to turn away.

  “No, Dad, I mean I’m going up there to stay while Owen’s there. It could be several months.”

  Milt turned back, the look on his face suggesting he didn’t understand what she was saying. “But you’ve got work here.”

  “I spoke to Graeme. He’s happy to fill in for me.”

  Milt’s head went up, understanding dawned. “At a cost.”

  “You can pay him what you pay me.”

  “And what will you live on?”

  “Owen reckons I could get work at the roadhouse. Or maybe on a nearby station.”

  Milt shook his head. “Owen’s leaving next week.”

  “I’ll wait till tailing’s finished. Give you time to work something out with Graeme.”

  Milt’s shoulders drooped. In the silence the fridge began to hum. “If it’s what you want,” he said brusquely and turned away. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Bree stood alone in the kitchen. Pleased to have finally told her father, excited to admit she was going on this adventure with Owen, and yet there was a part of her that felt as if she’d lost something and she wasn’t sure what it was.

  The cup of tea Kate had brought Natalie sat cooling on the bedside table. She watched Milt now, his tall frame stripped naked. He carried a few extra kilos around his middle but he was still fit for a man approaching his sixtieth birthday. She’d always loved his body, even when they’d gone through the rough patch after the affair. Her head and her heart had found it easy to feel the pain of his infidelity but her own weak flesh had found it difficult to reject his body. Eventually it had been the sex that had brought them back together and then they’d worked hard to make the rest right.

  Now he was rummaging in his underwear drawer, muttering about not being able to find anything and then lifting a pair of superman boxers into the air in triumph. They’d been a Christmas gift from one of the girls, probably Laura. He’d given up wearing anything to bed once the girls had left home but had the funny habit of putting on a pair of boxers when they returned. Not that Natalie would complain. She was in pyjamas and sex was the last thing on her mind tonight, the same as most nights these days. Menopause had changed her body and her libido. It had coincided with Milt slowing too but she did wonder how long it had been since they’d last made love. There was always intimacy and cuddles, but not sex for perhaps a couple of months.

  She pushed those thoughts away. She’d made up her mind to ask her husband the question that had come back to haunt her ever since they’d visited Jack on their way back from the city. Pretending all could go on as usual wouldn’t work. Now the pressure of it built inside her with a ferociousness she had to expel.

  Boxers on, Milt climbed into bed beside her and kissed her cheek. “Did you know Bree’s planning to go off to Marla with Owen?”

  His qu
estion took her by surprise. She’d worked herself up to ask her own question. “She mentioned something about it before I went to Victor.”

  “Hell’s teeth, Nat. This property is her work. I can’t leave it on a whim and neither can she. Didn’t you tell her that?”

  “Didn’t you?”

  He looked at her, mouth open as if to respond and then he closed it.

  She felt sorry for him. He still thought of his daughters as little girls and had no idea how to have a grown-up conversation with them. Natalie was to blame in some respect. She’d always stepped into the breach. It was so easy for her to talk with her girls. A few leading questions and they usually spilled all.

  “There’s a bigger problem,” Milt said. “Connie’s agitating for some kind of payout.”

  “What? You told her there won’t be, I assume.”

  “I haven’t spoken to Connie. This has all come from Mum.”

  “Connie’s had handouts and she’ll get an inheritance. She’s not getting an extra share. It belongs to us now, to our girls.”

  “I know all that, Nat.” He held up his hands. “Settle down.”

  Natalie bristled. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “There’s nothing I can do about it until I find out exactly what she wants.” He reached for his glasses. He only used them when he read his book, too stubborn to take a pair with him for everyday use.

  “Are you going to read?” she asked. Reading was rare for her other than professional development journals and papers. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d read a book for pleasure, probably last summer, but it was Milt’s nightly habit, his way of switching off. They were always fat tomes: biographies, Australian history or war memoirs. Usually he came to bed first and by the time she’d finished her jobs he’d be ready to put out the light.

  “I was.”

  She swallowed the urge to slap him. She’d been doing that a lot lately, swallowing her urges. There had to be another outlet for her anger.

  “I wanted to talk.”

  “About?”

  Natalie took a breath, her heart thumping. There was no easy way to ask the question she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer to.

  “Jack.”

  Milt plumped the pillow behind his head and settled back against it. “What about Jack?”

  “You seem to have taken quite an interest in him.”

  Milt let out a tired sigh. “We’ve talked about this, Nat. He’s a neighbour and, in spite of the past, a neighbour that needs some help through a difficult time at the moment.”

  “I don’t mean now. Before Veronica’s diagnosis, he’d obviously been here on occasion and you there.”

  Milt folded his arms, tugging the sheets tight as he did. “I told you he’s interested in our breeding program. He wants to learn and we’re right next door. He came to our last sale.”

  “Did he?” Natalie thought she would have remembered that.

  “Yes. He asked a few questions and we got talking. He’s been keeping in touch ever since.”

  Natalie swallowed. She was about to raise a topic they’d agreed never to raise again.

  “We agreed…after…well, we decided never to socialise with the Halbots.”

  “And we haven’t. Jack’s visits have been business.”

  Natalie had started now. She couldn’t stop until she had her answer. “And the dinners, the cups of coffee?”

  “Hell, Nat, you’re splitting hairs. He came last week because I didn’t think it was good for him to be alone. You know that.”

  “And tonight?”

  “He was here today while we were yarding sheep. It was Laura who invited him to stay.”

  Natalie’s stomach twisted tighter until it felt like a solid lump had formed inside her and then it lunged upwards, forcing the words from her mouth, opening an old wound that had never properly healed. “Is Jack your son?”

  Milt’s face went slack except for the small frown that furrowed his brow. He gave the slightest shake of his head. “After what we went through, Nat, why would you even ask that?”

  “Because I have to know.”

  “He’s not my son.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because…” He looked down, his legs shifted under the sheet. “I told you why…we didn’t—”

  “You had an affair with his mother.” She kept her voice low, never wanting her girls to hear those words.

  “There was no affair exactly.” His response was a harsh whisper. “You know that. We settled all this a long time ago.”

  Natalie snorted with pent-up rage mixed with terror. She was having none of his cover-ups now. “Perhaps you told me what I needed to hear.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Jack was born nine months after you and—”

  “Jack was premature.” Milt’s chin jutted forward. “And I’d bloody well know if he was mine.”

  “How?”

  “You know how.” His face contorted in a mix of disbelief and anger. “Hell’s teeth, Nat, it’s in the past. Why are we even discussing it?”

  Natalie shook her head. Dread was spreading cold fingers down through her body and out to her limbs, prickling the back of her neck. She’d rebuilt her marriage and had thought the glitch was behind them but Milt couldn’t see how much Jack looked like him. The pearly blue eyes, combined with Laura’s fair hair and Milt’s waves. It was as plain as the nose on his face but Milt was never quick to see what was right in front of him.

  “You were the one who betrayed our marriage.” She couldn’t stop herself. Her words were sharp, barbed, aimed to hurt.

  Milt threw back the covers and rose from the bed, the ridiculous boxers hanging low on his hips, below his paunch. He glared down at her. “Yes, I know,” he growled. “And I’ve been paying for it ever since.”

  Natalie recoiled. “What do you mean? Once we sorted things out I’ve never mentioned it until now.”

  “And we weren’t going to tell anyone but you told Dad.”

  “I did not.” Natalie was firmly back on the high moral ground again.

  “How did he find out then, when not even Mum knew?”

  Natalie sat up. She remembered the day so well. Clem had come to her, hat in hand literally. He was such a gentleman. Always took his hat off if there were women present. “You were off in the paddock and your mum in town. I was home with Kate and Bree. He came and sought me out, said he knew. He was so understanding, so kind. It was a relief for me to have someone to confide in.”

  “Did it have to be my father?”

  “He’d overheard us arguing a few days before. He didn’t take sides.”

  Milt humphed. “Not what he said to me.”

  “Well, he said nothing against you to me. Your dad kept things close to his chest but he offered me a choice. He asked me to forgive you and stay but he said if I couldn’t do that and I had to leave the marriage he’d make sure the girls and I were well looked after.”

  “Dad said that to you?” Milt sagged to the bed. “I got a right royal telling-off. I’d never felt so bad in my life, first for the hurt I caused you, then for my father’s disappointment and then the anger…well, I assumed you’d been the one to tell him.”

  “You were angry with me?” Natalie struggled to contain her own simmering rage.

  Milt shrugged, put his head in his hands. “Hell, Nat, it was so long ago. Why are we doing this to each other again?”

  Colours swirled before her eyes, and she couldn’t breathe. She threw back the covers and strode to the window, throwing up the sash and letting the cold night air waft in around her, welcoming the chill of it prickling over her skin. Her marriage had a question mark over it again but this time she doubted her wisdom in staying. What had it been for? She turned back to Milt. He was still slumped on the edge of the bed, his back to her.

  “Perhaps it was a mistake to try to bury it,” she said. “You know what they say, lies come back to haunt yo
u.”

  He turned to her. “There have been no lies. You know all there was to know.”

  “Jack?”

  “He’s not mine, Nat.” Milt sighed, crawled back into bed and pulled up the covers. “I’m tired. We’re just going round in circles. Let’s get some sleep. We’ve got another early start tomorrow.”

  Natalie studied him as he turned away to switch off his light. Since his affair and the patching up of their marriage they’d rarely rowed openly or raised their voices at each other. Milt was quick to anger but just as quick to cool. He’d growl about something then calm down and they’d talk, but tonight he wouldn’t and she couldn’t. Nor could she stand to lie beside him, not feeling like she did. She had to get away or she’d go mad. She took her dressing-gown from the hook on the back of the door.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “I can’t sleep. I’ll only keep you awake. I’ll go to the spare room in the quarters.”

  “Owen’s in there.”

  Nat looked back at the dark outline of his frame in the bed. “Milt, you can be so blind.” She spoke in a low voice. The rest of the house was in darkness. “He won’t be in the spare bedroom, I can assure you.”

  The dark shape sat up. “You think he’s with Bree?”

  She shook her head, pulled the door to behind her and set off down the passage. That Owen and Bree were an item, as they say, and Milt hadn’t noticed was one more piece of proof that he couldn’t see the bleeding obvious.

  Fifteen

  Laura buzzed around the kitchen making extra noise to compensate for the lack of it coming from her two grim-faced sisters sitting at the table clutching their cups, tea for Kate, coffee for Bree. She switched the radio to Triple J. Her father was already up and headed out around the same time as Sean and Owen by the sound of it. Her two sad-sack sisters had made breakfast for the men but not for themselves. She put a plate of toast on the table between them with a thud fuelled by a small burst of jealousy that there was no man in her life for her to even miss slightly, let alone moon over like these two were.

  “Cheer up, you two. It’s not as if you’re never seeing them again.”