‘Here you go,’ she said, handing Kai a plastic cup full of the mixture and placing a coaster in front of him on the coffee table. ‘Be careful though, no spills.’
Like that would prevent any.
Chrissie remembered the time they’d had lunch at a friend’s house in Sydney. She could see that Kai was about to spill his drink so, in a split second, she’d flung her hand out to grab it but in the process knocked over her own glass, the drink soaking the pants of her friend’s daughter, seated next to Kai.
She placed her own smoothie on the dining table and continued extracting things from Kai’s bag. ‘Oh, no wonder you’re thirsty, your water bottle’s only half empty and you haven’t had your popper.’ Chrissie held up the small juice box.
‘I forgot,’ he said.
‘And what about your banana?’ She held up the browning squished fruit that had been compressed at the bottom of the bag by the lunch box and a couple of picture books.
‘I didn’t feel like it.’
‘Oh, Kai. You really must try to eat what I’ve packed for you, otherwise it’s a waste.’
Just as she’d thought, only half his lunch had been eaten too. She brought the half-sandwich over to him. ‘You can eat the rest now, please.’
‘But I want something fresh.’
‘What do you call that?’ She pointed to the smoothie.
‘But that’s drink, not food, silly.’
‘Kai, it has fruit in it, and fruit is food. So drink up, eat up, and I don’t want to hear another complaint from you today.’ She gave him the ‘Don’t mess with Mum’ look and hoped it would last at least the next half hour so she could finally sit down for a bit.
Chrissie downed the smoothie in about thirty seconds, then opened her notebook. Not the yoga one, the other one; the one that would eventually lead to her financial freedom and hopefully her dream of starting up her own rural yoga retreat.
She re-read the list of priorities on the first page:
1. Go through Aunt Felicia’s things.
2. Renovate house to maximise sale price.
3. Sell house for top dollar.
4. Buy a new house on a large acreage.
5. Create a stable life for Kai.
6. Plan yoga retreat business.
She’d almost added: and finally be happy and settled.
She turned the page and divided the second page in half by drawing a line down the middle. At the top of the first column she wrote Big Jobs, and at the top of the second she wrote Small Jobs. Would she need a Medium Jobs column, or would that be taking things too far?
Her deceased aunt’s house — now her house — could have been sold as is for quite a decent sum, considering its solid structure and breathtakingly beautiful and sought after beachfront location that marked the beginning of the Tarrin’s Bay township. But it would go for so much more with some renovations and revamping, and the more money the better. She wasn’t greedy, just wanted to get the most she could for her aunt’s property. She had to do it; there was no one else in the family left but her. Besides, if she left it as is there was a slight chance the buyer might knock it down and rebuild. Felicia would have hated that; this house was — had been — a part of her. And even though Chrissie’s last memories of being here were ones she’d rather forget, she couldn’t sit back and let someone tear it down. No, she’d bring it back to its former glory, and more. She’d use the equity to get a loan for what needed doing; building a garage to replace the weathered carport at the side of the house, extending the L-shaped verandah around the other side of the house and expanding it into a large covered deck and entertaining area, and replacing the tiled roof with something more robust and hardy to deal with the constant salt spray from the ocean.
The five-bedroom house was too large for only her and Kai, but it would be their temporary home until the work was done. Besides, her therapist had told Chrissie that it would be good for her — a chance to face her past and come to terms with what happened here during the summer she turned thirteen. She’d been given the name of a new therapist in Tarrin’s Bay, but with getting Kai settled in a new school and starting her new job, unpacking their things and sorting through Felicia’s, there hadn’t been a spare moment. Maybe she wouldn’t need one anymore. Maybe the act of cleaning out the old and revealing the new would somehow heal her of its own accord. She could only hope. And maybe the whole Drew thing would be a welcome distraction after all, instead of something she feared she couldn’t handle. Chrissie tapped the pen against her chin as her gaze wandered around the white interior with beachy decor, while her mind wandered back to her yoga session with Drew.
Kai laughed hysterically at something on the television, breaking her daydreaming, and she brought her attention back to the list. The kitchen; it would need a complete overhaul. A good kitchen would make it easier to get a higher price. People wanted state of the art appliances, not rustic equipment that had seen decades of use. She’d get a few quotes and plan to have it done during the April school holidays when she’d secured a week off from work. For the other week, Kai would be at his father’s house, making it easier for Chrissie to get to work. Although she hated having to share him with her ex-husband in this way, like a parental tug-of-war, it did have its advantages. It was nice to get the odd break from her role as a mother and spend some time alone. She could even go back to Sydney and spend a night on the town with Melinda if she wanted to. Then again, she was sort of past all that. A nice dinner and conversation with a friend beat living it up on the dance floor in a crowded, sweaty nightclub by far.
Chrissie’s thoughts returned to the kitchen with its homely look and she wondered what sort of benchtops and cupboards to get. A brief laugh escaped as she eyed the clock on the wall that said ‘time to eat’, remembering her aunt’s voice calling out to her and her sister as children, telling them to stop playing in the sand because it was getting dark and was ‘time to eat’. Chrissie and Danielle would play for hours outside, their backyard being their own private section of beach. She shook away the memories which, although happy, only led to those that were unhappy.
Chrissie eyed the colour scheme of the house — baby blues, rustic whitewashed furniture, and splashes of sandy-coloured wicker in the backs of the dining chairs, legs of the coffee table, and the magazine holders bursting with craft magazines. Various ornaments were displayed haphazardly; a shell sculpture sat on a bookcase underneath a decorative anchor displayed on the wall. Everything cried out, ‘I’m a beach cottage’, even though the house seemed too large to be called a cottage. It was nice, comfortable, but it would probably be best to go for a more modern, minimalist style: off-whites, caramels, and earthy tones to blend in with the natural environment surrounding the property. She had an eye for detail, but could always call in a colour consultant and interior designer, if necessary, to get things right.
Kai released another belly laugh and Chrissie smiled. He may be a little difficult, but it was these moments that gave her hope; reassured her that everything would be okay, that he would be okay. He would be, wouldn’t he?
Chapter 6
If the next morning was anything to go by, Chrissie was about ready to take Kai out of school, leave her job, and move into a tent somewhere far away where they could live off the land and forget about rules and schedules and timetables and expectations. How would she cope with another day of this, let alone the whole year, and every year till he finished school as a teenager? Late again, and just as grumpy and upset as he’d been yesterday, Kai had reluctantly stood by Mrs Kitson in the playground as Chrissie scurried off before he could run after her and find a way to permanently attach himself for the rest of his childhood. Anyway, it was out of her hands now. He was at school, she was at work. Focus, Chrissie.
‘Off with the fairies?’ Drew asked.
‘Huh? Oh, sorry, I must have been a bit zoned out. All this yoga, you know.’ She shrugged and pressed her lips together in a small smile. ‘So, ah, let’s try Trikonasan
a again. This time, focus on opening up the chest and keeping the hips from tilting forward.’
‘Okay, let’s do it.’
Drew widened his legs and pointed his right foot out at a ninety-degree angle, then held his arms out straight to the side. Chrissie stood behind him. ‘Remember, reach and lengthen to the right first before bending sideways.’ She guided his arm with her hand as he stretched out. ‘Good, good. Now bend, keeping your torso facing the front.’ He followed her instructions well. He was a little stiff, but nothing that regular daily practice couldn’t loosen up. As his left arm reached high, the sleeve of his t-shirt fell down around his shoulder, circled around it in a kind of embrace, and his shoulder blade bulged beneath the fabric of his top. She adjusted his arm’s position slightly, aligning it with his right arm that reached down and rested on his leg. ‘Imagine a metal rod is connecting your left hand with your right, keeping both arms in a perfect straight line.’ He didn’t speak, simply adjusted and breathed, and for a few moments there was silence. A sense of peace washed over Chrissie. It was always rewarding watching the human body bend and twist and support itself in positions that weren’t part of normal daily life. Especially the human body in front of her now. It really was a beautiful sight…when a student got the pose just right. ‘Fantastic, now inhale and engage your core as you come up.’
Drew stood straight again, then repeated the pose on the other side.
‘Okay, let’s try a variation of that pose, with the knee bent.’ Chrissie went to demonstrate when a jingling sound came from her bag. ‘Oh, I thought I turned it off. Sorry!’ She continued to set up for the pose.
‘It’s okay, go get it. I don’t mind.’
‘Oh that’s okay, I never answer phone calls during class.’ The ringing stopped as it went to voice mail. She stretched her arms out to the side and bent her right knee, when the jingling sounded again.
‘I’ll grab a sip of water, you take your call.’ Drew walked over to the side table and picked up his bottle as Chrissie got her phone and swiped the screen to answer.
‘Hello?’
‘Mrs Cavanaugh?’
‘Um, it’s Ms Burns, actually.’ She was used to being called Mrs Victor Cavanaugh, but had hoped people would get used to her returning to her maiden name after the divorce. She’d kept the surname for Kai, though.
‘Oh, right, Sorry. It’s Jenny from the school reception — ’
‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yes, well there’s no need to worry, but Kai has been in sick bay for over an hour.’
‘What’s wrong? He doesn’t have a fever or anything?’
‘No, no fever. But he’s been complaining of a tummy ache since recess.’
Great. Probably didn’t eat his morning tea and his ache is actually hunger, or he’s dropped it and eaten it anyway, along with a clump of dirt or bugs or something.
‘Oh, well, could you check if he’s eaten anything today? Or maybe he just needs some water and a bit of a lie down for a while. I’m sure it will pass.’
In other words, I can’t possibly leave work right this minute to pick him up.
‘Well, he’s eaten, had some water, and has been lying down for an hour. He says he still feels sick. It’s our policy that if there’s no improvement after an hour we have to request that he be picked up from school.’
Chrissie swore under her breath.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Oh, nothing. It’s just that I’m at work. I’m not sure I can leave yet. Can you keep him there for another half hour or so?’ She added a hint of desperation to her tone of voice.
‘I am sorry, Mrs Cav — Ms Burns, I understand it’s an inconvenience, but I really must insist. I have other work that needs doing and I can’t watch over him constantly, I’m afraid.’
Chrissie hung her head, then glanced at Drew who mouthed, ‘It’s okay, go,’ and gestured to the door. Bless him.
‘Ms Burns?’
‘Yes, of course. I’ll leave now.’ She ended the call and placed the phone in her bag, then looked at Drew as he approached her. ‘I am so, so sorry. My son’s feeling sick and the school wants me to pick him up.’
‘No worries. Family comes first.’
‘If only they’d watch over him for another half hour I could complete your session. Oh, this is such an inconvenience for you, I really am very — ’
‘Chrissie.’ He grasped her hand lightly. ‘Seriously, it’s okay. We’ve already had half an hour. I’ll do a bit on my own for now. I’ll manage. You go take care of your son.’
His touch relaxed her tense muscles yet heightened her senses at the same time. She smiled apologetically as he ushered her to the door. He may be okay with the interruption, but how would Helena react? Leaving work early on her second day teaching the V.I.P. guest? She’d probably replace her with Lisa, and this would be the last time she’d ever see Drew Williams.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, if your son’s okay for school, that is.’ Drew smiled.
I bloody hope so. ‘Of course. Thanks for your understanding, Drew.’
She scurried down the stairs and into Helena’s office, who although agreed that she had to go and collect her child, also suggested she start searching for a short-notice babysitter to call on when needed.
Chrissie dashed to the car and drove towards the school.
Perfect timing son, perfect timing.
* * *
Bad timing, but Chrissie had to go and be with her son. It didn’t faze Drew, he only felt sorry for her feeling so bad.
That’s parenthood, I guess. Lots of unexpected twists and turns.
Not that he’d know. At thirty-seven he hadn’t even come close to settling down. When his career skyrocketed in the early days it was the furthest thing from his mind, of course, but now, almost twenty years later, it was starting to feel like every day was Groundhog Day. He needed a change, some sort of life reinvention, but first, he needed peace and quiet. Time to think, to rejuvenate, and to work out what to do next in the journey of Drew Williams’ life and career. Away from the prying eyes of the media.
It must be hard, having to think about someone else all the time, putting them ahead of everything. Hopefully her son was okay. Drew was looking forward to seeing his niece and nephew on the weekend; it’d been a good year since they’d met up at Disneyland when the family had flown over to the States — his shout of course. Money was no issue, and he’d rather spread it around. The charity he’d set up to provide instruments and teach music free of charge to sick and underprivileged kids was a success. So many kids never got to learn an instrument because their parents couldn’t afford lessons or the instruments themselves, but the work of Star Sounds was putting an end to all that. It was great to give back when the public had given him so much.
Drew took another swig of water and stretched his arms towards the ceiling, the rewarding pull on his muscles lengthening his spine. He sat on the floor mat and crossed one foot over his bent knee, swivelling his torso sideways and relaxing into the spinal twist. He took five deep breaths and twisted further with each one, then repeated the stretch on the other side. As he stood, he thought he could smell a hint of Chrissie’s perfume, or maybe it was something she used in her hair. Either way, it was fresh, sweet, and he breathed in deep to try to get another whiff of it. Funny how it was easy to miss things like the scent of a person when they’re in front of you, but the moment they leave, it becomes noticeable. Maybe because his other senses had been hogging the spotlight; his ears listening to her concerned voice as she spoke on the phone, his gaze gliding over her petite frame and the way her clothing moulded effortlessly to her body.
He walked over to the window and glanced outside into the V.I.P. garden. Sunlight speckled the grass and leaves wafted gently in the breeze. He’d never really stopped to notice such things before. His life was all about getting to the next event or meeting, always moving forward. Now, the only way he’d be able to move forward was to back up a little and pres
s the pause button. If only he could press stop on the scandal he’d run away from.
Yawning, Drew returned to his yoga mat and lay on his back, shifting his body into the correct alignment for Shavasana; legs slightly apart, arms relaxed by his side with palms facing upwards, and eyes closed. A yoga class always finished with this relaxing pose, and he often found when the time was up he didn’t want to move. Sometimes it would take a while to switch his mind off to relax, but once he did, it was like he’d entered a whole new world, a new realm he didn’t want to leave. Peace. Stillness. Calm. When he was younger those things were plain boring, but now he craved them.
Refreshing breath filtered into Drew’s lungs as he inhaled deeply, and he imagined each breath curling and swirling inside and nourishing his body with a boost of oxygen. Colours formed in his mind, swirls of blue and purple, with a tinge of pink, like the sunset picture in his room. A melting sensation warmed and softened his muscles until he could barely feel his body against the mat, as though he was floating, and with a few more deep breaths he succumbed to the delicious, enticing invitation of sleep.
Drew’s eyelids snapped open, sunlight streaming into his eyes. Instinctively he checked his watch. Almost one o’clock. He’d slept for an hour, damn. So much for trying to settle into a new time zone. Bloody jet lag. He eased himself up and yawned, stretching his mouth wide and his body high as his arms reached up. A subtle recollection of a dream narrowed his eyes. What the? Dreams were weird things. He sculled some water as he remembered what he’d dreamt — his own goddamn funeral. What kind of morbid thing was that to dream about? He’d heard a voice conducting the ceremony at the gravesite, but there was nobody around, nobody at all. Geez, he wasn’t exactly Scrooge and this was no Christmas Carol, but the only attendant at his funeral was his beloved guitar. It was resting against his grave, although weakened and unable to stand tall and proud without its owner. Would that be all he had at the end of his life, a freaking guitar? Of course he had family, but his parents wouldn’t last forever, and as for friends, well they were all back in L.A. If you could call them true friends; they’d only got to know each other by being in the industry and who knows what they’d be if they didn’t have music to bond them. Would they still be mates if he wasn’t a singer? He’d left his good mates behind at age eighteen when he’d won Australia’s Search for a Star contest on television: they’d all gone their separate ways.
February Or Forever Page 4