by Kate Lattey
One thing about Harry, he was a good kisser. Okay, a great kisser. Problem was, he was so good that it was distracting me from the fact that we were standing in his parents’ entranceway, and judging by what I could hear, they were only feet from us, in the next room.
“Okay, stop,” I said, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder and pulling away. He lifted his head and looked at me, confused.
“What’s wrong?”
I turned towards the sounds of clinking dishes and low chatter. “Your family’s, like, right there.”
Harry was unflustered. “So what? They are aware that we’re dating.”
“Yeah, but…” He leaned down and kissed my cheek, his lips trailing towards my earlobe. “I want to make a good impression,” I told him.
Harry scoffed at my concern. “Don’t worry. Dad’s already met you, and he likes you, and Mum agrees with him on everything. You’re golden.” He leaned in again and brushed his lips against mine. “Trust me.”
“Pretty sure that’s never a good idea,” I told him and he chuckled, and kissed me again.
I’d just given up resisting and had wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned into his embrace when someone behind us loudly cleared their throat. I pulled away from Harry so quickly that only his hands on my hips stopped me from toppling over backwards. Blushing furiously, I turned to see his father standing in the doorway, watching us. Not smiling.
“You planning on letting AJ come in and meet everyone, Haz, or are you just gonna stand around groping her in the hallway?”
“Hi,” I said, instinctively wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, which only made me feel even more self-conscious.
“Nice to see you AJ,” Rick said drily. “Come on in and join us.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I straightened my top and followed him, realising at the last minute that I’d unintentionally pulled it down even lower in front, and hastily tugging it back up again.
“It looked better before,” Harry murmured into my ear, and I elbowed him in the stomach as we stepped through the door, where three unfamiliar faces were staring at me.
“Hi. I’m AJ. It’s so nice to meet you all,” I said, trying to downplay my embarrassment and hoping I wasn’t still too red in the face.
“Dial it back, they’ll think you’re trying to impress them,” Harry said as his mum came forward to meet me with a warm smile.
“So nice to meet you at last,” she said. “I’m Viv. Make yourself at home. Dinner will only be a few minutes. I hope you like lasagne.”
“Love it, thanks,” I said quickly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, no, no, I’m fine. Rosie will give me a hand with the salad, won’t you love?” she said, directing her comment past me to a blonde girl sitting at the dining table and scrolling through her cell phone. She looked about Astrid’s age, and had her mother’s pale colouring and petite build.
“I’m busy,” she said. “Make Poppy do it.”
“I can’t, I just unlocked a new level on Candy Crush,” grumbled her younger sister, who was lying on the couch and staring at an iPad.
Viv sighed at their refusal to help and returned to the kitchen alone. Harry flopped down onto the big couch and patted the seat next to him, so I sat down.
“So, AJ,” Rick said. “What have you been up to all day? Not lazing around home like this one, I hope.”
Harry rolled his eyes towards the ceiling as I replied. “Um, I spent the morning at Katy’s, then I went to work with Dad and my brother Aidan in the afternoon. We’ve got this gardening job in Te Awanga that’s keeping us pretty busy.”
Harry reached over and took my hand, inspecting the dirt creased around my fingernails that I hadn’t been able to scrub off. “I can see that.”
“Going into the family business, are you?” Rick asked, taking a swig of his beer.
I shook my head. “Not exactly. Just earning some extra money to help pay for Squib’s expenses.”
“Good for you,” Rick said, before shooting Harry a dark look. “I’m sure your father appreciates it.”
“Uh, yeah. I think so.”
The tension in the room was building, so I was grateful when Viv came back in to tell us that dinner was ready. I took a seat at the table next to Harry, with his sisters sitting across from us, both still engrossed in their devices until their father told them to put them down.
“At least while we’re eating,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll survive without them for ten minutes.”
“Shows how much you know,” Rosie grumbled, but she laid her phone on the table – face up, I noticed – and picked up her fork.
“So AJ,” Viv said, doing her best to cut through the tense atmosphere as Rick continued to glower at his son, who was blatantly ignoring him. “How’s school going?”
“Good, thanks. Well, I’m passing everything so far, which is a start.”
“That’s always good,” Viv said blandly, smiling at me. Harry stabbed his lasagne with his fork, and tomato paste splattered off his plate onto the back of my hand. “Are you planning on going to university next year?”
That was when I realised that Viv thought I was the same age as her son and would graduate at the end of the year. Which was something that Harry and I had managed to avoid talking about, even between ourselves.
“Uh, staying in school. I’ve just started Year 12,” I explained.
She looked startled. “Oh, have you? Sorry, I just assumed, I mean, Harry never mentioned that.”
“Yes I did,” Harry interjected. “Several times. Now can you quit with the interrogation?”
“I’m not interrogating her,” Viv replied. “I’m just making conversation.”
“It’s fine, really,” I insisted. “I don’t mind.” I took a mouthful of lasagne, because I could tell that Viv was set to keep going with the questions and I thought I’d better eat while I had a chance.
“Didn’t you say that Anders’s sister was in your Biology class?” Viv asked Harry, almost as though I wasn’t there. “I could’ve sworn that’s what you said.”
“Different sister. He has three, the poor bastard,” Harry told her. I kicked him under the table, and he grinned at me. “Well, this one’s all right, I guess.”
“Four kids, eh?” Rick commented as I swallowed my mouthful. “Must be keeping your parents busy.”
“Five, actually,” I told him. “And yeah, I guess we do.”
“Are you the youngest?” Viv asked.
“No, second youngest. Astrid’s the baby. She’s thirteen, and just started at Havelock High this year.”
“Oh, she must be in your class, Rosie,” Viv said, and everyone turned their heads to look at Harry’s sister, who jerked her attention away from her phone, which she’d been surreptitiously checking when her parents were looking the other way.
“What?”
“Do you know AJ’s sister – what was her name?”
“Astrid,” I said. “Astrid Maclean.”
Rosie shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, maybe you’ll meet her at school,” Viv said. “That would be nice, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, great,” Rosie said distractedly, looking back at her phone as the screen lit up again. Rick reached across the table and picked it up, then tossed it across the room onto the couch. Rosie shrieked in protest and stood up. “Dad!”
“No phones at the table. Sit down.”
She obeyed reluctantly. “You could have broken it!”
“I wish I had.” He turned back to me with forced jolliness. “So, all those siblings, but you’re the only one with an interest in horses?”
“Yeah, I’m the black sheep,” I said, just before a vibrant ringtone cut through the air, making us all jump. Rick fished his phone out of his pocket, and looked at the screen briefly before answering it.
“No phones at the table,” Rosie said snarkily, but Rick ignored her.
“Hi Denise, how are you?”
Harry groaned and rolled his eyes skyward as his father stood up and took the call into the other room. “Worst. Client. Ever.”
We carried on eating, with the only conversation being requests to pass the pepper or Viv offering to top up my glass of water. Then Rick came back into the room and resumed his seat at the table.
Harry looked over at him. “I hope you told that stupid old bat to take a flying leap.”
“I did nothing of the sort.” Rick picked up his knife and fork, ignoring his glowering son. “I said I’d be there in the morning. Don’t worry, I won’t force you to come along.”
“You couldn’t pay me enough to set foot on that place ever again,” Harry said fervently. “I don’t see why you do it. You’ve got work coming out of your ears, old man, but you’ll still drop everything for that crazy old bitch.”
“Harry!” Viv said sharply, looking at his sisters as though they’d never heard a controversial word before. They ignored her, following the conversation with sudden interest.
“And if I don’t?” Rick demanded. “Who else is going to do it?”
“Who cares?” Harry replied.
“I care!” Rick told his son. “What’s going to happen to those horses if nobody will trim their hooves? They’ll end up crippled, or dead.”
“They already are, just about. You’re just delaying the process,” Harry said bitterly. He caught my shocked expression and protested. “It’s true. They’re either obese, borderline laminitic, or starving half to death, and she doesn’t see it. Probably wouldn’t notice if one of them was standing on three legs until someone pointed it out. Blind old bat.”
“All of which is exactly why I’m going out there tomorrow morning and trimming her horses’ hooves,” Rick said firmly.
I approved of his decision, since it was clearly being made for the good of the horses, but an awkward silence followed the declaration. Harry was eating furiously, Viv was distractedly sipping her wine, Rosie was still sulking about her phone being taken away, and Poppy was pushing a piece of capsicum around her plate with her fork.
I smiled across the table at them. “So I know Harry doesn’t ride, but what about you two?”
Poppy shook her head, and Rosie’s upper lip curled in disgust.
“No way,” she said with a dismissive air that told me it wasn’t worth even going down that route. “Horses are boring.”
I was about to tell her that if she thought that, she was doing it wrong, but Harry spoke first.
“Rosie! Are you trying to make AJ’s head explode?” He put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I know this may come as a shock to you, but some people in the world just don’t like horses.” He bit his lip nervously, as if expecting an outburst from me. “Shocking, I know, but true.”
I shrugged my shoulder out from under his hand and looked him in the eye. “You know what else people don’t like?” I asked him. “Being condescended to.” I stabbed up a forkful of broccoli. “Shocking, I know, but true.”
Rick laughed. “I can tell you have brothers,” he said, before taking another long swig of beer. “Glad to see you giving back as good as you get from this one, with his smart mouth.”
Harry grinned wickedly, unperturbed by the set-down. “Well then it’s lucky that my mouth is the part of me that AJ likes best.”
He winked, ensuring that his meaning was crystal clear to everyone, and I felt my whole body flush furiously as Rosie giggled and Viv pursed her lips and Rick fought back another laugh.
“You’ll keep,” I muttered to Harry.
He leaned towards me. “I sure hope so.”
Half an hour later, when dinner and dessert were done, Harry and I left his house and headed down the street towards the local movie theater. He dropped back and wrapped his arms around me from behind, then kissed the side of my neck, but I was still annoyed with him, and fended him off.
Harry dropped his arms and came up alongside me. “What’s wrong?”
“What d’you think?”
“I don’t know, AJ, that’s why I’m asking,” he said impatiently.
“Well, maybe stop and think about it for five seconds,” I suggested, walking on. “See if it comes to you.”
I became aware after a few strides that Harry was no longer with me, and I glanced back to see him standing still, his brow creased in thought. I kept going, and moments later, he came jogging up behind me.
“Is it that joke I made at dinner?” he asked. “You know it was just a joke, right?”
“Not a very funny one.”
“Sure it was.” Harry grinned at me, but it faded away as I shook my head. “C’mon, AJ. You know I was just teasing you because I like you so much.”
“And you chose to show it by embarrassing me in front of your parents? Smooth.”
His smile returned. “Oh come on, they weren’t that embarrassed,” he teased, unable to help himself.
“You know I wasn’t talking about them.”
Harry stepped around in front of me, blocking my progress. “Okay, don’t you think you’re overreacting just a bit? I told you, it was a joke.”
“And I told you that I didn’t think it was funny.”
“So I’m not supposed to make jokes unless I clear them with you first?”
“What about considering how I’ll feel about them before you make them?”
“We joke around all the time,” Harry pointed out. “How was I supposed to know you’d be so sensitive about this one?”
I pushed him aside and kept walking. Harry came after me, putting a hand on my arm and turning me around.
“Come on, AJ. What’s the big deal?”
I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Why is this so difficult for you?”
“Because I don’t know what you want from me!” He’d raised his voice now, and an old man walking his dog on the other side of the road shot us a scandalised look.
“What I want from you is an apology.”
Harry frowned. “Is that all?”
“Yeah, Harry. That’s all. Just an acknowledgement that you made a joke at my expense in front of your parents that embarrassed me and that you care that I’m upset about it.”
“Fine. I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding remotely penitent.
“You ever plan on saying that like you mean it?”
He rolled his eyes. “Man, you’re hard to please today. What’d you do, go and turn into a girl overnight?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I didn’t realise that me being a girl was a problem for you, but if I’m not your type, I’m pretty sure Scott Hanneford is single right now…”
Harry glared at me. “Don’t be stupid, you know that’s not what I mean.”
“Well since you’re remarkably bad at explaining what you do mean,” I snapped. “Maybe stop and think before you talk. Can you do that?”
Harry narrowed his eyes, then nodded grimly.
“Good.”
I started walking again, and he fell into step next to me. I still wanted to see the movie, with or without him. He didn’t speak, and I stayed quiet myself, wondering how long he could keep it up. It became an unspoken challenge between us – literally – and it wasn’t until we were in line for movie tickets, and he was trying to mime the question of whether I wanted popcorn, that I finally gave in.
“You know, when I said you should think before you speak, I didn’t expect it to be this hard for you.”
Harry’s mouth quirked up into a smile. “Neither did I.”
I couldn’t help smiling back at him as I reached up and pressed my palm against his forehead, testing for a fever. “Poor thing. I know your brain isn’t used to that much restraint. Do you want to sit down for a while, or d’you think you’ll be okay?”
“Wasn’t my brain that I was restraining, it was my tongue,” Harry said. “But let me know if you want my ton–”
Then he broke off, clamping his lips together in an obvious attempt to stop himself from speaking. I
watched him curiously as he averted his eyes, frowning with deep concentration, then gulped, literally swallowing his words.
I had to hand it to the guy; he knew how to make me laugh. He still hadn’t apologised properly, but he’d at least made an effort not to keep being such an ass. I could live with that. I leaned over and playfully bumped his arm with my shoulder.
“So are you going to buy me popcorn, or what?”
The movie was a disappointment, but we were sitting in the back row and had recovered from our argument enough to make our own fun. Since there were only a handful of people in the small cinema, we only got glared at once by a middle-aged couple in the next row down, and they walked out of the movie halfway through anyway.
On the way home, Harry and I talked more cordially.
“Do you really not want to be a farrier?”
He pulled a face. “Hell no. Why would I? That job destroys you physically and doesn’t pay nearly well enough to compensate.”
“Doesn’t pay that bad, surely,” I muttered, thinking about how much it cost me to put a set of shoes on Squib.
Harry looked at me sideways, clearly following my train of thought. “When you factor in the tools and the shoes, running the forge, diesel and road user charges, it amounts to bugger all.”
“What does your mum do?” I asked, thinking about their house, which was pretty nice and certainly didn’t indicate that they were living anywhere near the poverty line.
“Office admin,” he said with a shrug. “It doesn’t pay that well either.”
“What d’you expect your parents to be, millionaires?”
“Why not?” He kicked a stone across the footpath and into the gutter.
“Well, because most people aren’t.”
“AJ, are you calling my dreams unrealistic?” he asked. His voice was teasing, but I could tell that he was slightly hurt. And here I’d thought we were done arguing for the evening.
“That depends,” I said, unable to resist ribbing him a little. If I had to take what he dealt out, he could take it too. “How d’you intend to make all these millions?”
“Playing rugby.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed.