by Lee Winter
Then why do I feel so miserable?
Her phone beeped with an incoming text. Alex.
Did I ever tell you how good I am with lists? I think I should help you with yours.
Baffled, Sam threw her phone back into her pocket unanswered, started Tiger, and roared back into town.
Gina greeted her at the pub door like usual, pointing the bread tray to the kitchen. Sam’s phone beeped twice more but her hands were occupied with two dozen sandwich loaves.
“You gonna get that, love?” Gina asked after Sam set down the bread. “Your phone’s going off like Dutch’s microwave.”
“It’s nothing.” She turned to go.
“You okay?” Gina cocked her head. “You don’t seem yourself. Even more broody, if that’s possible.”
“All good.”
“I’m sure there’s something you want to tell me. Something about work?” Her gaze sharpened.
“Oh.” Right. “I lost my job. Not much else to say.”
“Quit’s how I heard it.”
“Well-informed as ever.” Sam rolled her eyes.
“Saw the story in the paper. A certain new senior constable got phone video of the Hornets dropping drugs in Ika Whenu.”
Sam folded her arms. “Great. Murray’ll go far.”
“Anonymous witness gave it to him, the paper said. Some jogger.” Her eyes were knowing.
“Lucky.”
“You miss it, don’t you?”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t miss being on call all hours.”
“So what are you doing with all your spare time? Spending it with that director of yours?”
Of course GNN knew about her and Alex.
“If that’s whose boots are under your bed these days, I’m happy for you,” Gina continued. “She seems lovely, especially for a Hollywood type.”
Sam sighed inwardly and kept her face neutral. “We’re…on a break.”
“Oh, bub, what’s happened?”
“Nothing. Life goes on. Same old, same old. I’m needed here. Look, I better go.”
“Wait.” Gina drew her aside, away from the open kitchen door and Dutch’s earshot. “What do you mean by ‘I’m needed here?’ Did she ask you to go off with her?”
Caught, Sam sighed and didn’t answer.
Gina didn’t need one. “She must care for you to make such an offer.”
Sam scowled at being put on the spot. “It’s only travel. A few months checking out the sights together. Thousands of miles away from everyone. From you. And Kev.”
“Where you’re needed,” Gina repeated.
“Right.”
“What has you so busy here? Most people don’t quit a job without something lined up. But all I see is a lot of empty space in your day.”
Sam drew her finger along the polished, worn wood bar. “I’ve been considering all my options.”
“And what are these options?”
Sam shrugged. “I thought you could use some help maybe. You’re not getting any younger. And you know I’ve helped out at the pub over the years; I know how it’s done. I could be there for you all the time, especially when you do your big gastro-pub overhaul.”
“Got it all figured out, hmm?” Gina’s expression lacked any trace of the delight Sam had assumed would follow her offer.
“No one would give you any trouble with me around,” Sam added. “If anyone got ugly, I could step in immediately.”
“As could Senior Constable Snell—whose job it would actually be.”
Sam stared at her.
Gina tutted. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer, it’s just—a better question is why you’re not considering Alex’s offer, too? Why’d you break things off?”
“How’d you know I did?”
With a snort, Gina eyed her. “Miss Responsible here wonders how I know.”
“Fine.” Sam folded her arms. “Cleaner to do it now. Just be harder later.” Sam leveled Gina with a cool gaze.
“But why’d you turn her down at all? Don’t say it’s because you suddenly have a passion for running a pub. You’d be bored in two minutes. And don’t say it’s because you don’t care about her, either. Bub, you’re way more gone on her than you ever were that Auckland girl. The moping’s ten times worse this time. And I have seen you two together. A mother knows these things.”
“I have responsibilities here,” Sam protested.
“Let’s hear them.”
“Lots of little things that add up every day, from picking up your supplies to doing Mason’s gate. Kev needs me to keep an eye on him, most of all. People need me.”
“When I stopped driving, the baker offered to drop off the bread for me, but I told him no because I liked seeing you every day. Can just as easily say yes. And I’m sure you don’t need to stay in town just to lift or close a latch on a cowshed.”
“But Mason…”
“Has friends, family, neighbors. Not everything’s down to you.”
“Well, there’s Kev.”
“Who’s now a man.”
“Who needs me.”
“Does he, though? He’s grown up a whole lot lately.”
“He’s turning out as crazy as Sid,” Sam grumbled.
“I reckon so.” Fondness filled Gina’s eyes. She reached into her pocket and drew out her wallet, from which she plucked a photo, worn and faded.
Sam. Aged about twelve.
“I fell so in love with this little girl.” Gina traced the lines of her young face in the photo. “It broke my heart the day I found you. I said to myself, ‘Gina Mahuta, you will not let this child down. You will make sure she feels safe and loved and is protected no matter what.’”
“And I’m grateful. You kept that promise.”
“Not always. I’m not perfect. I also let you feel obligated to fix your brother’s situation. I sometimes wonder if that was the worst thing to do.”
“I didn’t mind. Gangs are a risky thing to get caught up in.”
“True. But that happened years ago. Kev’s safe. So I’m wondering, why are you still here?”
“Trying to get rid of me?” Her words, intended to be teasing, sat between them like an unexploded warhead.
“Never,” Gina said forcefully. “You’ll always be mine, whether you’re in LA or Outer Mongolia. You’ll always have a home here, too. But you don’t need to stay here to make sure of that. You won’t lose me if you go.”
“Why are you so sure I should? I’ve been doing okay here, haven’t I? Well, until the mess at the Boars compound.”
“You have. And people here respect you a great deal.”
Sam gave a cynical huff. “Sure. Respect me so much they pulled those sabotage stunts on me.”
“Is that really how you see it? That they played some stupid pranks on you? No. That’s their way of showing they care.”
“More like they got plastered and thought it was hilarious. You know how bored people get around here. The scrutiny and gossip are constant. Between what happened to Mum, you fostering me, and my coming out, I was a hot topic for years. This is just same old shit, different day.”
“I know they hurt you badly back then,” Gina said quietly. “And I also recall a lot of those doing the hurting weren’t much older than you at the time. Now that everyone’s all grown, they feel bad about the things that were done to you; I know it as a fact.”
Sam paused. Hadn’t Dino admitted much the same thing?
“And those shenanigans on that movie set?” Gina continued. “Well, I see people trying to show you how much they care about you. Wanting you happy. And all you’re seeing is they’re laughing at you. They aren’t, sweetheart.” She cupped Sam’s cheek and met her eye. “The laughter’s stopped. It stopped years ago. Sure, there’ll always be gossips but it’s not about h
urting you. I promise, you don’t need those ten-foot-high walls anymore.”
Oh sure. Easy for her to say.
“Anyway, that’s a thing for you to figure out on your own,” Gina said. “In the meantime, what I can say is, if you want to leave us, that’s okay. We’ll all be just fine.”
I’m that disposable?
“Hey,” Gina asked in concern. “What is it? Where’d that squirrelly brain of yours just take you?”
“Nowhere,” Sam said gruffly.
“Sam, just because you’re free to go doesn’t mean we won’t miss you. I’ll ache not seeing you every day. But I’ll be happy, too, knowing you’re off following your heart. And if your heart lay in pouring beers in my pub, I’d be thrilled to have you beside me. But that’s not you. Your dreams have always been about seeing the world. And before you say you don’t care about that anymore, I’ve seen your postcards. It’s okay to go after your dreams. It is, bub. I promise, it is.”
Hope warred with doubt inside Sam. Her dreams had seemed impossible for so long. Sam’s thoughts lurched into a chaotic jumble.
“By the way, those movie people just paid the first half of my catering bill,” Gina said. “Turns out they pay in American dollars—now that was a lovely surprise! Probably should have read my contract closer. But it means I’m getting almost half as much again as I budgeted for, so I’ll have plenty for my new oven, and then some. I won’t need your loan money. I’m giving it back.”
“It was a gift.” Sam eyed her uncertainly.
“I love you for that, I do, but you’ll be needing some splash cash around all those fancy tourist places. And maybe you’ll want to take Alex somewhere nice and romantic, too?”
“I haven’t decided to go yet.”
Gina shot her a knowing look. “Don’t be stubborn now. If this is the puppy all over again—”
“I swear if anyone mentions Bruce one more time—”
“So prove us wrong.”
“I’ve got to think about it. It’s complicated.”
“Or it’s real simple.”
Sam exhaled. “Nothing’s ever simple with me. You know that.”
“I’m well aware. You do love to overthink everything.” Gina looked sad. “Just consider it. Okay?”
With a nod, Sam left before the annoying woman thought up any more probing questions. Outside, she plucked her phone out of her pocket and called up her new text messages.
Sam’s list – Pros and Cons of Having an Adventure with Alex Levitin*
*Because nothing is decided until there has been a list
Nothing? Sam snorted. Sure.
Pro: I’ll let you ride my Unicorn all over LA. Who needs some high-powered beast called Tiger when you can purr along on my ‘sweet cream machine’*. I’ll even give you naming rights.
*possibly a euphemism.
Sam typed back:
Con – I don’t have a US driver’s licence for streets of LA. Nice try.
Alex replied immediately.
Pfft. We’ll go off-road then. I’ve heard you know a bit about that. Rumor has it you even know stunts, like flinging yourself under cute directors’ cars to show off.
Flinging herself under…
Pretty sure that’s *not* how it happened.
Sam settled back on Tiger and drew out her helmet as her phone beeped again.
Semantics. Pro: In LA, I can take you to a set to see actual movie motorcycle stunts that’d set your hair on fire! Thrills, spills, and superstars. Ooh!
Sam did up her helmet strap. Then tapped a reply:
Con: It’d be easier to stay home and watch Breaker Bob. I’d get to save a bundle, share a beer with him, and my hair would stay un-napalmed.
OK, then. Pro: We can take photos of you swanning around Pfeiffer Beach to send to that bitchy ex who said you’d never get there. To go with it, I can enlist my comedian mate Rowan to come up with a clever, cutting message of restrained British shade. Bonus points: It’ll be so subtle it’ll take her a week to realize she’s been insulted.
Sam smiled. Nicole wasn’t worth it. Rowan sounded fun, though. She tried to picture him and came up with a young Hugh Lawrie. Random.
Pro: Sam, even you are allowed a break and to get out of dodge sometime
No attempt at humor this time. Sam could picture her pleading eyes. She pushed down her anxiety, that feeling of being boxed in. First Gina beating this drum, now Alex.
Con: I can’t just abandon people who rely on me. It doesn’t work that way.
Her phone beeped almost immediately.
A break isn’t abandoning anyone. Final pro: There’s me. You really matter to me Sam. I don’t want to lose ‘us’.
Sam stared at the message. Their…whatever it was…wasn’t supposed to be about more. The pressure in her head started building. Why did everyone want her to take up Alex’s offer? Why was everyone pushing her to go?
She already felt dispensable thanks to the letter sitting on her kitchen table. Official confirmation of her resignation from New Zealand Police. It included an order to turn in her equipment and uniform. And…the big one: a requirement she vacate her subsidized rental within six weeks to allow one Senior Constable Murray Snell to move in, now his appointment had been made permanent.
This was too much. She revved Tiger and debated whether to go home. She needed a clear head. Air. Sam pointed her bike out of Ika Whenu and floored it.
Roaring along Kopuku Road, the dark green forest pressed in on her, calling her into its depths to hit the hard trails.
Soon.
Tumbling, brittle, brutal thoughts spun through her head. Gina didn’t need her. Kev didn’t need her. Sid had never needed her. New Zealand Police sure as hell didn’t need her. Even a certain neighbor’s dog was perfectly fine without her. She’d caught Bruce happily curled up at the feet of her replacement at the station yesterday.
No one in her community really needed her. Funny how she’d always thought they had. The ego of her. How humiliating to discover she was about as essential as tits on a bull to the population of Ika Whenu.
So that was good, wasn’t it? She was free to go. That’s what everyone seemed to want, anyway. It’s what Alex wanted. Everyone was pushing her that way. Sam gritted her teeth.
Why shouldn’t she just leave? After all, Sam was now pretty sure her feelings for Alex weren’t the passing-fling kind. The woman was intoxicating. She couldn’t get enough of her.
So what was the damned problem? Stubbornness for the sake of it?
I’m afraid.
Oh.
Sam blinked. Oh hell. Had she left it too long? Lost her spontaneous streak?
She tried to pick apart the sensation, the threads and layers gluing doubt to fear.
What am I afraid of?
For a brief, absurd moment, Alex’s love of lists leapt to mind.
The wind picked up, icy and frigid against her cheeks.
What do I fear? What if something happened to Gina when she was gone? Or Sid or Kev? Sam would never forgive herself.
What if… The next doubt curled inside her like a ball of prickles… What if she didn’t even like traveling, after all these years banging on about it and moping over her damned postcards? Geez, that’d take the cake, wouldn’t it?
That’s not it.
What was it?
What if Alex gets bored with me? Then what?
The pain of that thought was so suffocating she knew she’d hit the mark. Sam was a managed risk taker. She didn’t like being tossed into the darkest unknown. Hell, she’d quit her job rather than face being sent God knows where, to start at the bottom again, away from everything she knew.
Taking a chance that someone might want Sam in their life for as long as Sam wanted them, too… She couldn’t control that risk at all. If she gambled and lost, the h
urt would choke her. She’d be off, far from home, with a woman who no longer thought she mattered.
That was the crux of it. Sam had long wondered if she was easy to throw away. Her deadbeat father certainly thought so. Her mother hadn’t managed to find a way back to her, either.
It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t.
Doubts filled her. How would Sam deal with it if things with Alex crashed and burned? How would it feel if a woman who had come to mean so much to her looked her in the eye and said, “It was fun but I’m done.”
Isn’t Alex worth the risk, though? She clung to that thought. Of course she was.
It’s not managed risk, the anxious part of her brain hissed back. I can’t manage that. I can’t predict that. It would crush me if she wanted me then discarded me, too.
That felt like the truest thing she knew. So, there it was. Maybe she should protect herself while she still could. Protect her brittle heart. Stay.
No! She didn’t want to watch Alex walk out of her life.
What if, though, I let Alex leave now and decided later…maybe I could follow her if I realized I made the wrong choice?
Rounding a corner, she leaned into the tight bend, enjoying the speed, just as a flash of white came into view.
An enormous sheep truck was bearing down on her, taking up most of the road.
The driver honked, long and loud. The road was too narrow. Sam was going too fast.
Mouth dry and eyes widening, her hands crushed the brakes. She yanked the handlebars to the side, praying it’d be enough.
Alex headed over to the pub before work, determination building. Time to get to the bottom of a certain confusing, honorable ex-cop. She found Gina in a supply room, shifting boxes to and fro.
“You here for Sam? Just missed her,” Gina said.