Du Rose Family Ties

by Bowes, K T

  Hana winced at the Māori word for excrement and pulled a dressing gown over her pyjamas. The metal cornering of the diary glinted in the moonlight, balancing on the dresser where she’d left it and Hana snatched it up, angry with Logan and his grandmother for their abandonment of her. She left the room without answering, the bloom of their intimacy still warm in her veins. “Bloody men!” she grumbled, descending the stairs and avoiding the creakiest ones.

  Light showed under the door of Caleb’s room and she passed by with care, not wanting to draw his attention and hear yet more excuses for his recent behaviour. In the lounge she found Leslie, kneeling in front of a struggling fire. “You finished yer bouncing around?” the old woman asked, not looking up. Hana felt her cheeks blaze and pursed her lips.

  “Tell me exactly what happened after we left the hotel,” she demanded. “I want to know why you fought with Alfred and how you came to bring Caleb here.”

  Leslie leaned back on her haunches and fed a hefty log to the hungry flames, nodding with satisfaction as the fire revived under her ministrations. “I thought you might,” she grumbled. “I’ll make tea first.” She stood, using the arm of the sofa to creak her old bones into a standing position and Hana plonked herself on the deepest of the armchairs and waited.

  “Was it over the weed?” Hana asked, following her to the kitchen when she didn’t return. Leslie stood by the sink watching steam pump from the kettle without focussing.

  “In part,” she answered, pulling herself together and reaching for the teapot. “He started with a wee tub of seedlings after Miriam died and he’d go onto the roof and tend them. Next it’s a herb garden and then the greenhouse and he’s up there all the time; watching the world go by and smoking his baccy as he called it. I felt relieved when he agreed to clear it away without a fuss, but I saw that boy take the bags. When I searched his place I didn’t find it. Alfie wouldn’t help me and we argued but it would’ve been okay but for the other thing.” She gave a heavy sigh and went after the tea bags with a spoon as though imagining Alfred’s head being squashed beneath the metal.

  “Alfred told Logan he incinerated the weed.” Hana’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  “They did some of it that way.” She winced. “It made such a stink they stopped.” Leslie sighed and a tear sprang onto her cheek before she could wipe it away. “He misses his wife. We married too quick and this is my punishment. Atua wants to see me hurting.”

  Hana shook her head. “No, you’re wrong. God doesn’t enjoy people’s pain; you can’t blame him.”

  “It is.” Leslie nodded so hard she banged the mugs together. “It’s my punishment for all the other times.”

  “All the other times?” Hana cocked her head in confusion and then winced at Leslie’s raised eyebrow. “Oh. Other times. Like, you and Alfred had other times?”

  Leslie nodded. “Yes. Two people in unhappy marriages, growing up together and working side by side. It’s bound to happen. Both as trapped as the other, him more so because of the land the old woman left him. He loved the bones of Miriam and she never deserved it. Every time she went back to Rueben he sought me out, right up until the last time.”

  “The last time?” Hana fingered the diary in her hands, Leslie’s revelation obliterating any secrets held within the crinkled pages. “What happened the last time?”

  Leslie sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I got pregnant.”

  The diary fell from Hana’s fingers with a clatter, depositing shards of aged paper onto the kitchen floor. “You got pregnant? Does Logan know?”

  “No!” Leslie’s eyes widened, the whites glaring like the stare of a maniac. She turned to face Hana, her face filled with latent threat. “And you won’t tell him.”

  Hana groaned and put her hands over her face. “Then you shouldn’t tell me this stuff! I’m not keeping secrets from him; we promised each other.”

  Leslie swallowed and ignored her. “She looked like your Phoenix, dark ringlets and grey eyes. I loved her so much.” She sighed and Hana waited for more, frustrated with Leslie’s faraway look. The old woman’s eyes filled with misery and her chin wobbled. “The day she died I knew I’d never be happy again. And I haven’t been.”

  Hana swallowed. “I’m so sorry, Leslie. I didn’t know.”

  The sad old woman wiped her eyes and nose on the hem of her dress and sighed. “You can’t go back in life, kōtiro. She would’ve turned thirty-five last Sunday and I decided we’d been together long enough, me and Alfie. I told him the truth and he threw himself into a temper like I’ve never seen before. Figure he broke every plate and cup in the apartment and screamed at me to get out.” Her heavy lidded eyes sought Hana’s, the heart reflected in them broken. “He said what kind of woman gets a papa to carry his own pēpi to the urupā in her coffin without telling him she’s his kin?” Her chest heaved and she struggled with her next breath. “Why did I marry him, Hana? Why did I think I could make it right?”

  Chapter 42

  Verdict

  Hana watched as a female staff member teetered on too high heels, straightening her back and attempting to look Logan in the eye. She fingered the material of her tight skirt and shifted her legs into what she thought might appear as a sultry stance, throwing out her left hip in his direction. Hana’s steady walk towards the school building slowed and Phoenix bounced next to her, singing a little song under her breath. She looked up as Hana stopped and followed the direction of her mother’s gaze. “Papa’s talking to lady,” she announced and Hana winced at the reminder, jealousy flaring in her breast like a nasty flush.

  “I can see,” she said, her voice low and controlled. She studied Logan’s body language, hands shoved in his pockets and his stance casual. As the woman moved towards him, his cowboy boots took calculating steps away, matching her for pace and distance so she didn’t notice. When she laughed and reached out as though to place a hand on his arm, Logan ended the conversation with a shake of his head and turned away. Relief flooded through Hana. It didn’t matter how many times the poor man proved himself, she tarred him with the filthy brush belonging to her first husband.

  “Logan,” she called, forcing herself to speak and seeing the woman jump in surprise in her peripheral vision.

  “Papa, Papa, Papa,” Phoenix sang and he turned back to them, a ready smile spreading across his whole face.

  “How’re my girls?” he asked, scooping up his daughter and putting an arm around Hana’s shoulders. He bent his head and kissed her temple, whispering in her ear. “Thanks for rescuing me, babe. That chick can’t take no for an answer.”

  Hana pushed her hand into Logan’s back pocket, displaying possession like an angry lioness. The woman allowed a vengeful look to cross her attractive features before realising who and where she was. Hana felt jealous eyes boring into her back and wished she’d dressed ready for competition, her sense of victory short lived. “Who is she?”

  “Head of English.” Logan fixed his eyes forward and resisted looking back at her. He lowered his voice. “She’s already bedded a physics teacher; can’t imagine what she’d want with me.”

  “I can!” Hana grumbled. “But she’s not getting it.”

  The teacher watched for a moment and then flounced away, her face fixed back into a mask of indifference. Her heels clicked up a set of concrete stairs and into the bowels of the school.

  Logan snuffed out a laugh and clasped Hana closer. “Nope, for sure. I’m happy with my life as it is, thanks.”

  “Why did you text me?” Hana asked, matching her step to his. Phoenix snuggled into Logan’s neck and popped her thumb into her mouth.

  “Receptionist at the hotel rang me earlier. A letter arrived for you last week and got put into the wrong pigeon hole. I asked her to open it and scan to email. When I tried to forward it to you, something stuffed up and I got a mailbox error. I need you to read it.” Logan pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed in the passcode to unlock the screen. His eyes soft
ened at the look of fear on Hana’s face. “It’s nothing bad. Macky’s appointment came and it’s short notice, that’s all.” Gentle fingers reached out to stroke her cheek and he jerked his head back towards where they met. “You saw me trying to get cover so I could come with you. I don’t think it’s a good idea to accept favours from her; she’s a little too familiar.”

  Hana heaved out a sigh and accepted the phone, turning her attention to the tiny screen. “If that’s the cost of covering a couple of hours; don’t ask for a week off.”

  Logan shook his head and tickled Phoenix under the chin, ignoring the barb in Hana’s voice. “She didn’t ask me outright,” he said.

  “I don’t think she needed to. Her pheromones smelled strong enough to reach me.” Hana gaped at the screen and then swore. “It’s today, Logan. Don’t they realise we have lives too?”

  Logan shrugged. “I’ve got a health insurance policy which takes a chunk of money off me every month for this stuff. Why didn’t you use it?”

  Hana chewed her lip in embarrassment. “You didn’t know I took Mac to see the doctor. I needed to be sure something was wrong before I involved you. It seemed unfair to rake over old wounds without being certain.”

  Logan tutted and leaned to kiss her brow. “Idiot! We’re in this together, remember?”

  Phoenix slipped an arm around Hana’s neck and dragged her closer into the embrace, sighing with contentment. Logan’s free hand traced a pattern at the bottom of Hana’s back. “We’ll be fine,” Hana said. “It’s just tests and questions and I can do that by myself. I’ll see if Leslie will take Phoe and Wiri to kindy and school and free me up to go to the hospital with Macky.” She bowed her head and peered at the phone again. “I’ve got two hours to pull it all together and get there.”

  “I got kindy?” Phoenix asked, lifting her head and popping out the thumb. “Phoe-Phoe like kindy.”

  “Yes sweetheart,” Hana said, stroking the dark curls from her daughter’s face. “Two big days and one half one.”

  “No.” Phoenix shook her head from side to side hard enough to rattle her brain. “No. All the days.”

  “You’re too young, pirinihehe. Maybe next year.” Logan’s eyes crinkled at the corners and Phoenix pouted and leaned in close, trying to open his eyes wide with her fingers.

  “I princess?” she asked, her lips pursed as she translated the Māori word.

  “Truly,” her father replied and winked at Hana.

  “Do I need a copy of that letter?” Hana asked, worrying at her lower lip. “I might need to show it at the clinic?”

  “It didn’t say so.” Logan placed his daughter on the ground and her feet wiggled in mid-air before touch down. “Mead building, reception E. The appointment time is ten o’clock but they want you there earlier to fill in paperwork. You should change the address to The Gatehouse for now.”

  “Okay.” Hana took her daughter’s hand and steeled herself to face the extent of her son’s disability. “Wish me luck.”

  “Hana.” Logan’s voice sounded soothing and he snaked his fingers behind her neck, leaning his forehead against hers. Their vast height difference caused him to form an arch above their daughter. “My life is brilliant; better than I ever imagined it could be. We have two beautiful kids and I love you. We don’t need luck.” His lips brushed against hers and she closed her eyes and sighed.

  “I know.” She forced a smile onto her lips and set off for the house, waiting a moment on the pavement while Phoenix waved over her shoulder. Logan watched for a while before moving away with heavy footsteps, caught in the impossible gulf between work and family.

  “I’m not a kid,” Phoenix announced as Hana led her home. “I’m a lamb.”

  “Okay, but it’s still a baby,” Hana argued. “What difference does it make?”

  “Mrs Alison at kindy says little lambs. Kids is naughty. They eat things and bounce around. Lambs is for sweet babies what Jesus loves.”

  “That’s interesting,” Hana acknowledged, pondering the matter. “Fair point. You can be a lamb if you like.”

  “Can Wiri be lamby too? And Macky?”

  “Yep. For sure.” Hana opened the unlocked front door and stepped across the threshold. “Let’s see if Nonie minds taking you to kindy.”

  “Yeah, I can do that.” Leslie met her at the door playing hunt-the-school-shoe with Wiremu. “What did you do with it?” she demanded, turning her attention back to him as he cocked a leg over the bannister rail. “Stop messing around and find your shoes.”

  “I fink I lost them,” he grunted, sliding a little way before clattering his backside against the newel post. “Oof!” he complained. When he opened his mouth to describe the part he’d hurt, Hana cut him off.

  “Get ready. Nonie’s taking you to school this morning. Phoe, grab your backpack, it’s got morning snack and lunch in it.”

  “Yippee!” Phoenix bounced to the kitchen and seized the bag from the table, fiddling with the straps.

  “It’s for later!” Hana protested. “Don’t open it now; you just ate breakfast.” She turned her attention to Leslie. “Please can you walk or take your car? I need the ute for an appointment.”

  “Where?” Leslie cocked her head on one side and Hana gritted her teeth. “It doesn’t matter. Your car might be easier. Take the ute.”

  Her mother-in-law looked thrilled and Hana cringed, doubting Logan would appreciate another fender bender at his expense. “I’ll drive real slow with the kids in the car,” Leslie promised and Hana nodded, ignoring the deadline contained in the assurance. After she dropped them off might be another matter.

  “Not kids!” Phoenix shouted from the kitchen. “Lickle lambs.”

  “Where’s Macky?” Hana asked, seeing his empty high chair through the doorway.

  “Here!” Phoenix piped up and pointed. “He got bare bum.”

  “Aye? What?” Hana groaned and skirted Leslie and Wiri, arriving in the kitchen to see her tiny son crawling under the dining table, his bare butt a skinny pink beacon. A wet nappy trailed from his fingers and he flicked it out sideways with the effort of hauling it along next to him. “Fantastic!” Hana complained, scooping him up and holding him at arm’s length. “Just brilliant.”

  “You deal with him and I’ll sort these two out.” Leslie waved Hana up the stairs.

  “Kiss, Mama! Kiss!” Phoenix tottered after her with a wrapped sandwich in her hands.

  “Put that back, Phoe!” Hana bent to kiss her and then puckered her lips to receive a wet slobber from Wiri, who grinned as she wiped her face on her sleeve. “That’s gross!”

  “No, it’s good. It puts the girls off,” he snickered, sticking out his pink tongue.

  “Please help Nonie with Phoe?” Hana begged, still holding her son outstretched in front of her. Wiri nodded and confiscated the sandwich, reverting to adult mode and putting Phoe’s lunch back in the backpack. Leslie continued the shoe hunt alone.

  When peace engulfed the old house with the click of the front door, Hana heaved a sigh and withdrew her splashing son from the bathroom sink. His lips formed silent sounds and his brow furrowed at his removal from the water. Hana pulled his face towards hers with a finger on his cheek and pursed her lips. “Come on, dude. This is the day we find out what you need.”

  Her son screwed up his mouth into a gummy grin, green eyes focussed on her face to read her expression. Hana forced herself into fake happiness and cajoled and jollied him through the process of dressing and getting into the car. She groaned in dismay when she surveyed the car seat in the back of Leslie’s vehicle. “Damn!” she complained. “She took the portable one.” With no way of fixing the seat to her pram, Hana resigned herself to carrying her son around the kilometres of hospital corridors on her hip instead, knowing he’d eat most of her hair on the way to the appointment. She settled herself in the driver’s seat and plaited her auburn locks to one side in anticipation, muttering to herself. “I’ll have jelly-arms after carrying you, baby.” She tur
ned to face him and he grinned and kicked his legs in response.

  The drive to the hospital proved without incident but reaching level fourteen in the multi-storey car park, Hana’s cheeks flamed with heat as fear touched her heart. “There must be a space soon,” she panicked. “I’m running out of floors!” She glanced in her rear view mirror and saw her son snoozing in the car seat. “You’re no help,” she grumbled, missing Wiremu’s quick eyes and jabbing finger pointing out spaces from a distance. A car reversed out up ahead and Hana waited, trying not to worry about the traffic bunched behind her. She nosed Leslie’s car into the gap between an SUV and a ute, grateful she’d ended up with the smaller vehicle by default.

  “Right, little man.” She peeled the sleeping baby from the car seat and lifted him over her shoulder, smiling at Mac’s enormous sigh of contentment. He wound his baby fingers into the loose curls which escaped the plait and held on, turning his warm breath onto her neck and squeezing his eyes shut.

  Hana carried the baby and her giant bag full of supplies over great lengths of corridor. A blue line painted onto the floor steered her to the Mead building and she searched for the relevant reception desk. A man around Logan’s age looked up as she approached the desk and he smiled. “How can I help you?” he asked, in a sultry Irish accent.

  “Our surname’s Du Rose. My son has an appointment for this morning at ten.” Hana held her breath while the man searched a screen in front of him, his brow furrowed in concentration. “The letter went to my other address,” she began. “I didn’t get the opportunity to confirm the appointment.”

  The man glanced around the busy waiting room and shook his blonde head. “No matter. Come on through.”

  Hana looked around her at the groups of parents with children of varying ages, chewing her lip and looking doubtful. The man smiled, a lovely smile in a face filled with kindness. “It’s fine.” He held his arm outstretched to indicate an opening at the side of the reception desk and Hana took a tentative step forward. Like a gentleman, he stood back to allow her through first and she almost collided with a portly woman approaching the gap at speed.