Unsuitable

by Ainslie Paton

  Audrey closed her eyes again so she didn’t have to watch her mother leave the room to window shop, to see a movie, to enjoy her holiday in Sydney. Every shopkeeper she met, every taxi driver, every waitress, they’d all be told how Esther’s daughter nearly died and how stressful that was, how this little bit of shopping, this respite for coffee was helping her take a break from the hideously draining experience.

  She heard Mia before she entered the room, running. “Mum. Mum.”

  She found the button to raise the head of the bed and was on her way to upright, her head spinning, the nausea revisiting with the speed and velocity of a bullet train, when Mia appeared in the doorway. She had the old tatty fairy dress, on over her clothes, her hair loose and flying all over her face. She stopped when she took in the bed, the room and her mother, who must’ve looked strange.

  “You’re awake. Nanna is at our house. And Merrill and Joe. We had pizza. I want you to come home right now. You look funny, but you’re not sick any more. You’re better and you can be in your own bed, and I can be in mine, and Nanna can go away to her house and Reece can come back and we’ll all have a picnic.”

  Merrill lifted Mia to the bed. “Oh Aud.” She was crying. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  Mia crawled over Audrey’s knees and the pins and needles bleed into a sharp pain, but it didn’t matter. She needed a hug more than she needed pain relief. She pulled Mia forward and wrapped her close. The only drug that could settle her anxiety.

  “Mum. When is Reece coming?”

  She kissed Mia’s forehead and smoothed her hair. “Are you being good for Nanna and Merrill and Joe?”

  Mia looked at her wide eyes. “You smell.”

  She smiled. “What do I smell like?”

  Mia wrinkled her nose and whispered, “Like dog poo. What’s this?” She tugged on the oxygen line.

  Audrey hugged Mia harder, took her hand away from the tubing. Any smell she didn’t like smelled like the dog poo she’d trodden on in the park and tracked all through the car and the house one time. But it was all the compliment Audrey needed. Mia might’ve been describing the sweetest perfume because she was safe and well and because there was Merrill who knew about Esther and had stepped in.

  Merrill sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  “I look dreadful don’t I?”

  Merry bit her lip and nodded.

  “I probably look better than I feel.”

  “You don’t have to worry about anything. Marvellous Mia is being a good girl. I’ve taken leave from work. Joe and I are on deck until you’re ready to come home.”

  “Esther?”

  “Is, um.”

  “Say it.”

  “She’s being Esther. She’s exactly as you’ve described her. I always half thought you made her up. But if anything you were kind. I’m sorry, I know she’s your mother, but some people—”

  “—Shouldn’t be allowed to have kids. And Reece?”

  “I want Reece. I don’t want Nanna. She smells like dog poo too.”

  Audrey looked down at the tangle of dark hair on Mia’s head. “Oh, she does not, monkey. Esther said she sent him away.”

  “Oh Aud, we mucked things up. It was Reece who found you and got help.”

  “He broked the door, Mum. But Polly fixed it with his magic pencil.”

  “He really broke the door in?”

  “Didn’t have his keys for some reason and heard Marvellous crying.”

  “I was scared, Mum. You were being Sleeping Beauty, you wouldn’t wake up. Reece was the prince but he couldn’t wake you up too. I wet myself.”

  “Joe and I, we nearly wet ourselves too. We didn’t know what to do. It’s been years since we had that discussion about being Mia’s guardians. We never thought we’d need to do anything about it.” Merry shrugged. “Knowing Esther was Esther, we figured we needed to keep Mia with us. We weren’t thinking about Reece. We more or less dismissed him.”

  Audrey swallowed a lump of emotion. She didn’t want to cry in front of Merrill and Mia. But Reece hadn’t abandoned them.

  “Marvellous here didn’t like that so he—oh, he had every right to be furious—he came back to help out. But when Esther arrived she banished him. She actually waved her hands at him and she might’ve said the words, ‘begone evil spirit’.”

  “Nanna is the weird kid witch.”

  She shouldn’t encourage this, but free pass for nearly dying. “Wicked.”

  Mia gave a wicked witch cackle and wriggled out of Audrey’s arms. Merry rumbled in her bag, pulled out the giraffe and handed it to Mia who set up at the end of the bed. What was that stupid giraffe’s name? Why didn’t she know it?

  “What do you want us to do, Aud?”

  She wanted her mother gone and Reece back. She wanted to be home in her own house, her own bed. There was sandpaper under her eyelids and it rasped over her eyeballs every time she blinked. She was so tired. She didn’t know what to do. Merry saw it and gathered Mia.

  “Mum needs to have a sleep. We’ll come again later.”

  “No. Mum comes too.”

  “Go with Merry, Mia. I’ll come home soon.”

  Mia started crying. “I want Reece.”

  Audrey wanted him too. So very badly, even with a fuzzy brain, with uneven emotions, she knew it had to be the illness because she was almost convinced all the medicine she needed would be having him hold her hand.

  15: Hesitant

  Reece had reached a white flag truce with Audrey’s mother. If he didn’t speak to her, if he kept Mia out of her sight, she tolerated his presence to do his job. He didn’t much care what she thought about him, about anything, and he couldn’t believe Esther and Audrey shared any hardwiring. They didn’t share looks. Esther had the look of someone who enjoyed sour, salty flavours and ingested so much of them she’d started drying up from the inside.

  Audrey must have favoured her father, one of those guys who thought they were Kings, Gods, who should determine how everyone else behaved. Guys who deserved to go down in a fight. Reece had fantasies about going back in time and taking on Audrey’s father, both of them in their primes. Reece would put Bates on the mat so he was hurt bad and couldn’t get up, so he thought about what it was like to be beaten and discarded, learned fear and humility, so later he’d think twice about abandoning his family.

  If Bates so much as threatened to disturb Audrey’s peace of mind, Reece might still do it, without the time machine, without mercy, and they could sell tickets to the event.

  He smoothed the coverlet over Mia’s bed. He shouldn’t be thinking about pleasure from violence when Audrey was due home any minute. Merry and Esther were bringing her. Two long weeks she’d been in hospital. Two long weeks during which she’d struggled to overcome the lingering effects of the meningitis and he’d shared Mia’s care with Merry and Joe and suffered through Esther’s pointed disdain. She’d seemed disappointed when it was clear he had no symptoms.

  Turns out, Joe was all right. He copped to freaking out, to being heavy-handed. He and Merry were trying to get pregnant and it wasn’t happening. It wasn’t an excuse for how he behaved, but it was an insight. Joe ran flack with Esther. He flattered her with courtesy, listened to her rigid opinions without starting an argument, chauffeured her around, and got her out of the way without a single complaint. That alone made him a hero.

  Reece did a last minute tidy while Mia played in her lounge chair treehouse. He set flowers in a vase and gave Esther’s suitcase a kick as he passed it in the hall. She wasn’t waiting to see if Audrey could manage on her own before moving out. He went back and kicked the bag again, then wanted to kick himself. He was nervous about seeing Audrey.

  He’d seen her regularly in hospital once she woke and asked for him, but never alone, always with Mia, and Esther or Merry, and that’d stopped him doing what he’d wanted to do most, but didn’t know if she’d welcome. He’d held her hand, while Esther made tsk sounds, but he’d wanted to clim
b in the bed with her and hold on to her, knowing she was growing stronger despite being so thin and drained and brittle looking he was scared anew for her.

  All he’d had those visits were her eyes; yellow, bloodshot and sunken, guarded by wary dark thumb prints but searching for his. He didn’t know how to read those looks, Audrey’s eyes on him down the length of the bed, across the shoulders of others. But he drank them down.

  He didn’t know if she remembered kissing him. None of the others had mentioned it, either out of respect for Audrey or because it was the definition of awkward, especially as it became clear they needed him. Merry could only take a week’s paid leave and Esther had no interest in caring for Mia. He wasn’t going to mention it either. Audrey had enough to worry about.

  He had no good reason to be nervous. Audrey was his boss. The kiss was distant and minor in the scheme of things and even if she did remember it, she’d been clear it wasn’t a defining moment. He was back to doing his job. Mia was healthy and happy. It’d taken him a few days to get her out of her fairy dress again, but swimming goggles worn around her neck were her new favourite accessory now.

  But shit, shit, shit. He was nervous. When he heard Merry’s car, he went to the kitchen and put the kettle on, heard them enter the house. Then he stood in the doorway between the lounge room and the kitchen and watched Audrey crouch at the entrance to Mia’s treehouse. The action seemed to cause her discomfort, she braced her hands on her thighs and bent gingerly.

  Mia barely looked up. “Oh, you’re home.”

  “Can I have a kiss?”

  “No.”

  Audrey grimaced. “I can see you really missed me.”

  Mia poked her head out from under the sheet. She was surrounded by every stuffed animal, doll and bright thing she owned. “I’m busy, Mum.”

  Audrey struggled upright and Reece stepped forward. Merry and Esther were behind him in the kitchen. This was as close to being alone with Audrey he’d been since the night before he’d had to break the door down. He held his hand out to steady her and she grasped it. He wanted to use her words and ask for a kiss.

  “Welcome home.”

  She stepped towards him and then she was in his arms, her head pressed into his chest. He wrapped around her. The way her shoulders moved, she might be crying. She smelled like antiseptic, chemical and stale, her hair was limp and dull, her clothes hung off her, she was all bone and sprung tension.

  “It’s so good to have you home.”

  She lifted her head. Her eyes were wet.

  “Mia missed you.” He felt as though he should apologise for Mia being a kid. “It’s been a confusing time for her.”

  “Thank you for being here for her. I know you had to fight for it.”

  “Not that hard. Mia did all the work.” He shrugged. “Kids and their routine.”

  She put her hand to his face. The gesture so intimate, her look so intense, he felt it through layers of skin and tissue all the way to his bloodstream, it re-oxygenated with tenderness.

  “Thank you for being here for me.”

  God, he could kiss her again now. Learn her pale lips and fragility as deeply as he‘d learned her strength.

  He heard movement behind him. Esther’s slippers. A sound he hoped never to hear again after today.

  “Audrey, tea is made.”

  Esther’s voice was acid laced with disapproval. He dropped his arms and Audrey stepped around him to face her mother. Mia called and he took the opportunity to make himself scarce, going to the other end of the room, but Esther used lack of discretion as a weapon.

  “In front of your daughter. Have you no shame?”

  Audrey sighed and Reece hesitated. If he took her in his arms he’d make things so much worse.

  “I saw your suitcase. You’re going home today, Esther.”

  Esther grunted. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll stay till you get your good sense back.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll call your father and tell him you’re not well enough yet to be left alone.”

  “Since I’m not one of his dogs, I guess that won’t matter to him.”

  The muscles across Reece’s backfired, firming as if he was bracing for an attack.

  “Don’t be impertinent, or I will start to think you have suffered some form of brain damage, like they said can happen. Maybe that’s what this thing with that man is, brain damage. I can only hope you recover before it becomes something you’ll regret any more than putting your child’s welfare in his hands.”

  Reece didn’t like Esther’s manner, but he had the same question. What did Audrey regret where it came to him?

  “Audrey.” Merry was in the room. “Reece made you a sandwich. I thought you might like to eat then lie down. Esther, I’m ready to drive you to the station. We don’t want to miss your train and I need to get back to work.”

  “I’m staying.”

  Merry said, “No, you’re not. Change your shoes. We’re going. Audrey doesn’t need you here.” Reece almost cheered.

  “Oh, Merrill, she’s not well. How can I leave her yet?”

  “Esther. Merry.”

  Audrey’s distress was a landed punch. It stung more than anything Esther had thrown at him. He moved across the room and stood behind Audrey. Merry looked up at him and smiled. He knew why she was Audrey’s friend. He had no beef with Merry and he wished her and Joe well.

  Merry took Esther’s arm. “Audrey has friends who will care for her. And you’ve made it clear you don’t approve. And you know what? You’re one of the most selfish people I’ve ever met.” Audrey put her hand out to stop Merry. It didn’t stop her.

  “Audrey is a brilliant and generous friend, a talented and successful executive, and a great mum, but instead of being helpful, you’ve done your best to ignore her needs, avoid your own granddaughter, malign Reece, and drive Joe and me around the twist. So you’re getting on the train and you’re going home, and that’s all there is to it.”

  Esther’s spine was spirit level straight. She pulled out of Merry’s grip and appealed to Audrey. “Do you want me to go?”

  “It would be better.” Audrey was trembling.

  Reece stepped closer. He put a hand to her shoulder.

  “You only had to say. If I’m inconveniencing you, well then I’ll go.” Esther looked over her shoulder at Merry. “When you’re ready. Goodbye, Audrey.” She left the room.

  Merry lifted her hands in gesture of defeat. “Sorry, Aud. If you want me to apologise, I—”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  Merry grinned. “That train can’t come fast enough. Reece really did make you lunch. You’re as white as Caspar, you should lie down.”

  She went after Esther and Audrey sagged into him. He steered her to a lounge chair and went to his knees in front of her.

  “Mia, come out and say goodbye to Nanna,” she said weakly.

  “No,” came from under the sheet. Then there was a series of animal noises, a lot of pig snorts.

  Audrey shook her head. “I don’t have the energy to make her.”

  “Do you want me to see—”

  She touched his face again, shook her head. Merry and Esther were in the hallway, then on the front steps. Merry said, “Bye. Call you later,” and the door banged shut.

  Audrey took a deep breath. “I want something else from you.”

  He said, “Anything,” and would’ve taken it back. She didn’t need him being such a fucking great, wet sap.

  “My lips are so dry.”

  He moved to get her water at the same time as she leant forward. He caught her shoulders between his hands. “You need to lie down.”

  “I remember, Reece.”

  He studied her face. Her eyes were clear. Her headache had eased, but she still had the pins and needles and she was physically weak. It could’ve been so much worse, from death to loss of limb and permanent brain trauma.

  “You saved my life.”

  “I did what anyone would do.”r />
  “I want—”

  “I’ll get you—” Water, she needed water.

  “You.” She closed her eyes. “But I’m—” She was going to apologise for her appearance, or her health or shit, who cared, it wasn’t happening.

  “—Perfect. You’re perfect.”

  He put his hand to the back of her head as his pulse tripped and blood raced around his body at super speed. He brought their faces close and they kissed, and she sighed, winding her arms around his neck. Her lips were rough and broken and the kiss had no pressure behind it, no emergency to it, or power to make it last, and yet it was beautiful for all the life it did have and all the promise it could make.

  She rested her cheek on his. “Will you stay with us tonight? I’m not okay to be alone yet. I told Merry, she and Joe should go home so the guest room is free again.” She straightened up and moved her hands to her lap. “I should’ve talked to you first.”

  “I’m happy to stay.” He couldn’t have asked for a better outcome. “I’ll stay till you’re well enough, and you kick me out.”

  “We need to talk.” Her voice shook. “I don’t know what this is, but I need you.”

  Her words were like a song. He dug his fingers into his thighs to stop himself from mauling her. “You need to rest.”

  He brought Audrey her sandwich and made fresh tea. She ate while Mia entertained them with random animal noises and the occasional stuffed toy ejected from the treehouse for unsatisfactory behaviour. She chastised the toys in Esther’s voice saying, “You’re too noisy,” and, “Sit still and behave yourself, young lady.” Audrey took that with amused resignation.

  She slept the afternoon away and that night they ate dinner together for the first time since the fish and chips. Mia was silly with the attention from both of them, but Audrey, though looking less stressed, was never far off tears. Mia’s bath was a joint effort, then Audrey read her a story.

  Reece could hear their voices, low murmurs and smile making giggles while he cleaned up. He rang Polly, but his phone was off. He left a message saying Audrey was home and he was staying, that he’d be around to the flat later for a bag of clothes and things. For tonight he had his gym bag, a spare t-shirt and a pair of cut-off track pants. They’d do to sleep in.