by Bree Darcy
“None of us I’m afraid,” I replied. “My mother won it in a raffle.”
“I don’t think so,” said the girl, chewing the end of her hair. “I remember my boss telling me about getting a call from a lovely guy. He wanted to spoil his lady, with the ultra-deluxe package.”
Now she mentioned it, it was a bit fishy that the voucher was only valid this weekend. Was this something Curtis cooked up with my mother?
“And do you remember this charming gentleman’s name?” Nikki inquired.
“Let me check the account.” The girl tapped her long fingernails on the keyboard. “I remember my boss saying he had an adorable American accent. Ah, here it is – Mario.”
Nikki looked at me. “Aaahh … the super Mario Brothers strikes again.”
CHAPTER FORTY
I pulled up outside Maria’s house and waited. There was no way I was knocking next door to face all of Andy’s relatives. Instead I’d wait in the car until I saw evidence he was here. Nervously I slipped my engagement ring off and on, off and on – until I zipped it away safely in the inside pocket of my handbag.
Finally a lone figure left the other house and jumped the low fence between the properties. He was fiddling with his key in the lock of the front door when he heard my footsteps on the driveway. He turned around but said nothing.
I said nothing back.
He pushed open the door and gestured for me to enter. “I keep expecting ma to call out to me, wanting to know what I’ve been up to,” he said.
I nodded, not knowing what to say.
Memories flooded in as we entered the hallway. All the times I had made my way to the kitchen to say a quick hello. She’d be in there, slicing vegetables or washing dishes, and gesticulating at the talkback hosts she insisted on listening to despite the fact she disagreed with them more often than not. Today there was no reassuring hum of the radio but the smell of alpine forest – her favoured air freshener – lingered.
We crunched our way into the lounge room – his mum still had the plastic matting down to protect her carpet all these years later.
“So how did you find out?” Andy asked me. “I should have let you know but … I just got straight on a plane. Wasn’t really thinking …”
“My mum.” Andy nodded, I’m not sure if he remembered she always scoured the funeral notices. “I’m so sorry, Andy, your mum … she was such an amazing lady.”
“She collapsed at Zia Carmela’s. She’d been complaining of headaches and nausea –they think it was a brain aneurysm.” His eyes welled with tears. “I should have been here.”
“Your mum was so incredibly proud of you. You were always with her, in here,” I tapped my heart. Why is it when someone died, our words seemed so pathetically inadequate.
“I wish I’d spent more time with her.” His voice cracked. “You’ve got to ask yourself what it’s all for. I left everything I cared about here – ma … you …” Andy wiped the back of his hand across his nose. “She wouldn’t move out of this old place, you know. I offered to buy her something nicer. Move her back to the States. But she wanted to stay here.”
“The house is exactly how I remember it,” I said, looking around. Anything to avoid Andy’s heartbroken expression. I walked across to the TV cabinet to take a closer look at a framed photo of Andy and me sitting on the hood of his old red van, his arms wrapped around me. We looked so happy.
Andy picked up the photo. “She never liked Siena the way she liked you. Siena went ballistic when she saw this picture – kept asking me why ma would insult her by displaying a photo of an old girlfriend. She made such a fuss I had to ask ma to put it away.” Andy ran his finger along the cabinet top, picking up a trail of dust. “Siena doesn’t like acknowledging I have a past. She won’t even meet Emma, pretends she doesn’t exist.”
How horrible must you be to ignore a young child like that but I didn’t want to say anything critical of his wife. I picked up a photo of Andy at the beach, swinging a toddler in a pink bikini as a wave crashed in. “Is this your other daughter?”
“Mmm, Mackenzie. That was taken the last time ma came out to LA.”
“Is Mackenzie, Siena – are they here with you?” I dreaded to think his wife could come barging in at any moment. If she got angry at an image of me in a photo frame, how would she react to the real-life me?
“No, we thought it would be too stressful. Gerry came instead. He’s gone for a run. You know what he’s like – can’t miss a day. The flights over nearly killed him, having to sit still for so long. He turns to me as we’re taxiing down the LAX runway, ‘AJ, are we there yet? I need to stretch my legs.’
Our laughter at his woeful impression of his friend broke the awkward atmosphere. “It’s so good to see you after all this time,” Andy said. “You’ll have to tell me what you’ve been up to.”
Following Andy into the kitchen, I quickly filled him in on my position on the political reporting team in Canberra. But I didn’t mention the engagement ring in my handbag or the man who gave it to me. Or that I had given up my job and was about to move to England.
“I’m glad it’s worked out for you – I really am.” Andy poked around in the fridge. “There’s not much on offer. Juice?”
“I’m fine, don’t worry.”
Andy swigged the juice direct from the carton. His mum used to clip him round the ear when he did that.
“You know I don’t think me and Siena are going to make it. At least that’s one thing to be grateful for – ma doesn’t have to watch my marriage fall apart. I would give anything right now to wind back the clock and be eighteen again. Not only to be able to see ma again, but to face all my choices – our choices – again.”
“You know you’d make the same choices all over again. Look at who you’ve become.” The band was on the cover of this week’s Time magazine as the voice of a new generation. Their latest album, Discourse Discord, which had been half recorded before Heath’s death, was sitting at the top of the charts on both sides of the Atlantic.
“I am – and I’m not particularly liking it,” he said. “If I could do my life over, I want the one that has you in it.”
Andy’s heavy look suddenly lifted, replaced with a more familiar smirk. “How is my man Dan? I should really look him up while I’m here.”
“Dan’s long gone.” I’d forgotten Andy had no idea what had happened the last time we saw each other. “Do you remember in London, when I was leaving for the airport?”
Andy nodded.
“I came back.”
“Huh?”
“After I left to catch the train to come home with Dan, I came back to tell you that I had changed my mind. That I was choosing you. But I couldn’t find you.”
As I recalled my frantic and fruitless search, I was surprised when Andy wiped a tear from my cheek. I hadn’t even realised I was crying.
“I wish you’d found me. I was furious when you walked off. I had been so sure we would get back together. Once I cooled down, I thought about writing you so many times but Gerry said I should give you a clean break to be with him.”
Andy held me so close I could feel his heart thudding. He stroked my face, watching me intently. My eyelids fluttered closed, and I could sense the heat of his breath on my face. All I wanted to do in that instant was relive one of our kisses.
The phone rang. “Just let it go,” Andy murmured, his mouth hovering on my ear. “I don’t want to speak to anyone.”
His mother’s chirpy voice filled the room. “This is Maria Dangerfield. I can’t come to the phone. Please leave a message.”
Andy’s face crumpled and he sank to the floor. All I could do was kneel beside him and hold him as sobs wracked his body.
* * *
Gerry returned not long after I had convinced Andy to go have a lie-down. “Long time, no see. How’s the boy?” he said as I followed him into the kitchen where he guzzled a glass of water.
“Not so good. He’s resting. It must be hard to be back
here, without his mum. It was nice of you to come over with him.”
“Yeah, I know Siena wanted to but it was just too difficult.”
“Sounds like things aren’t going too well with them,” I fished.
“Siena and AJ? Nah, things are fine. Why, what’s he told you?”
“Not much, just got the impression things weren’t good.”
“AJ’s not going to wax on and on about how much he loves his wife, not to you. So don’t go getting the wrong impression.” Gerry saw I was about to argue but cut me off. “I see them all the time – they’re perfect together.” His unspoken assertion that they made a better couple than me and Andy hung in the air.
“Well if she’s so perfect for him, why hasn’t she bothered to come to Maria’s funeral? How could she let him go through this alone?”
“He’s not alone – he’s got me. And AJ was the one who talked Siena out of coming. She’s been sick real bad for weeks.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“Didn’t he tell you? Siena’s pregnant – they’re having twins.”
I was letting this news sink in when Gerry put the boot in.
“I don’t know what you’re doing here, after all this time. I know you were close to Mrs Dangerfield but don’t think there’s room for you back in AJ’s life. You’ve broken his heart too many times, I’m never going to stand by and watch you do it again. Anyway guess what, this time his heart’s taken – by his wife.”
“Sorry Gerry,” I said, sarcasm lacing my tone. “Getting back with Andy is actually the last thing on my mind. I’m here because that’s what you do for a friend. And I’m worried for him. Do you think Maria’s death might make him go off the rails like he did with Heath?”
“Not if I can help it. And the best thing you can do is not mess with his head. Just leave things to the people who have his best interests at heart.”
“You just keep pretending that to yourself, Gerry. You talk about caring for his best interests but what you really mean is the band’s best interests.” I swung my handbag on to my shoulder. “I’ve got to go. Give my love to Andy and tell him I’ll see him at the funeral.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
If Facebook really had killed the high school reunion, as media columnists loved to claim, then I wouldn’t be having this much trouble getting served at the bar.
The pub was packed, with faces I recognised and others I didn’t until I had a chance to glance at their nametag. Marissa and her band of volunteers had done a great job decorating the function room in our red and navy school colours. There were blown-up pictures from our yearbook on the walls and the jukebox was playing the best of the 80s and 90s.
Two decades might have passed since we fired water pistols at our teachers on leaving day but thanks to social networking we were still up with who was happily married and whose relationships were complicated, we’d seen all the photos of chubby-cheeked babies, gappy-toothed children and teenagers learning to drive. We’d sent congratulatory messages when someone scored a promotion and heartfelt sympathies when someone faced a health scare or lost a loved one. And we knew who wasted hours of their life playing Candy Crush Saga.
But I was still intrigued to see everyone again – in person. Not Dan, of course. But everyone else. Actually, I could probably give Stacey a miss too.
Standing at the bar, waiting to be served, I chatted to Jo. Once an arty student who looked like Winona Ryder, she was telling me about the couple in the midst of a nasty divorce, who had to get their lawyers in to reach an agreement that she could attend the first two hours of the reunion and then he could come for the rest of the night.
Jo excused herself when Nikki arrived, tossing the nametag Marissa had given her into an empty glass. “You look totally gorgeous,” she squealed, making me spin around to show off my burgundy cowl neck jersey dress. I’d borrowed a pair of her black Prada criss-cross heels which were a little higher than I was used to so I turned very carefully.
“You’re looking pretty stunning yourself,” I said, admiring her midnight blue Donna Karan number with a neckline that plunged to her waist teamed with some feathered black heels.
“Is it sad that the most constant man in my life right now is Jimmy Choo?” she pouted. “I wouldn’t say no to some hot action tonight. Spot anyone interesting? – and when I say interesting I mean sexy and loaded.” Nikki cased the room. “Why do all these guys look years older than us?”
“Did you really mean that about settling down at forty? You know according to your official birth certificate that’s only next year?”
“Maybe, who knows.” She smiled mysteriously.
I laid my hand on her arm. “Just don’t settle, will you?”
Nikki laughed. “You’re hardly one to lecture anyone about that.”
“What do you mean?”
She shot a look at Curtis, who was playing a game of darts in the corner. “You know exactly what I mean. Holy moly, what do I have to do around here to get a drink, flash my tits?”
Fortunately Dawn and Corey chose that moment to arrive, and as the former football captain paraded around, high-fiving people, we grabbed Dawn to sneak away to a quieter bar in another part of the hotel.
Nikki was flirting madly with the young barman, when I spotted one of our former classmates making a beeline for us. “Here comes trouble,” I said, nudging Dawn.
The buxom-as-ever Stacey had squeezed herself into a tight black bodycon dress. With pleasure I noted she no longer suited such a figure-hugging style.
“Ladies.” She raked her eyes over each of us. “Nice to see you again. Dawn, my goodness, for a moment I thought it was your mum standing there.”
Nikki returned with a tray of frozen daiquiris. “My memory’s not as sharp as it used to be,” she said to Stacey. “What subject did you teach?”
Stacey was stunned into silence until Dawn reintroduced them.
“Gosh, sorry,” Nikki gushed insincerely. “When I mistook you for a teacher, I didn’t mean to imply you looked years older than us. So Stacey, heard you got divorced again. Third time still unlucky, huh?”
“Only two divorces.” Stacey held up her fingers in case we needed to count them. “This one was a broken engagement. But I got to keep the rock so all’s good. I sold it and went to par-tay in Bali. Met a very tasty surfer – friend of Kelly Slater. What do they say – best way to get over a man is under another one.” Stacey’s breasts wobbled as she shook with laughter. “And what about you, Nikki? Your latest boyfriend here and was he turned away for not being old enough to enter the pub?”
“No boyfriend for me tonight, happy to be hanging out with my best buddies. How’s your friend Diane by the way?”
Stacey pouted. “I haven’t seen her in years. I’m just here by myself, ready to check out the talent. Actually that reminds me,” Stacey turned her gaze on Dawn, “where’s that husband of yours? Corey’s always up for a bit of fun.”
“Excuse me.” Dawn pushed past us and headed outside.
Stacey turned to watch her go. “Well, that was rude. Anyway must mingle. Ciao.” She waggled her fingers at us and wiggled her way back towards the function room.
“Might be an idea to back out of the room Stacey, that way your cellulite won’t be on show,” Nikki shouted after her before turning to me. “What’s up with Dawn?”
We found our friend skulking around the back of the venue, down near the lake. I searched Dawn’s blotchy, tear-streaked face, trying to figure out what was wrong.
“Don’t let Stacey get to you. As if Corey would ever give her the time of day.” Nikki rubbed her back but it only started Dawn bawling.
“Dawn, please tell us what’s wrong,” I said, squishing a mosquito against my neck. “Do you want me to get Corey?”
“He’s the last thing I need right now,” she hiccupped. And through her tears, Dawn told us how Corey had cheated on her with Stacey years ago. She’d found out at the hairdresser’s – she’d just had Brooke s
o her hair was all stringy the way a woman’s hair goes after pregnancy – and Stacey and a friend had come in to get their hair styled for a wedding.
Dawn was glad to leave not long afterwards because she couldn’t stand another minute of their bitchy gossip. But realising she’d left her paperback behind, she doubled back. Stacey didn’t notice her behind the reception desk and continued to regale her friend with the story of how Corey seduced her behind the grandstand on football trophy night.
“She’d be making it up,” I reassured Dawn.
“I was sick that night. Remember I used to get those terrible period pains. I stayed for the trophies but then got dad to pick me up early. And the next day I was over at Corey’s and saw his white shirt bundled up in the corner. When I asked him how he got it so dirty with grass stains, he told me he’d be mucking around with the lads, rolling down the south hill.”
“He could have been. You don’t know she’s telling the truth.”
“I’ll go and smack the truth out of her right now, just you watch me.” Nikki made a move towards the door but Dawn pulled on her arm.
“Please don’t. I don’t want Corey to know I know. You can’t say anything. You have to promise me. Please.”
“But wouldn’t it be better for you to know one way or the other,” I said. “It’s obviously been eating away at you all these years.”
Nikki folded her arms. “I don’t understand why you didn’t at least tell us.”
Dawn scuffed her shoe into the ground. “Remember how Kell was when she found out about Andy. She was so mad and determined to dump his sorry arse. And I just couldn’t do the same. I couldn’t face not having Corey in my life. I felt pathetic to admit it.”
“But if it happened before you were married, doesn’t that make a difference to you,” Nikki said. “Or do you think he’s done it again?”
“All that matters to me is that he did it at all. When we got married I thought we had saved ourselves for each other … and he hadn’t. He’d been with her.”