When Alice finally hugged Paige goodnight, she seemed reluctant to go, like she was extricating herself by force, the embrace charged with sadness. Only then did Paige remember the Mark Twain saying—a Nancy favourite every time she made something decadent for dessert: ‘There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable.’
Of course!
No wonder Alice had been moody today and distant over dinner. With so much on Paige’s mind these last few weeks she’d let herself forget, allowing the anniversary of Nancy’s death to slip by. Not Alice though, who on this same night every year would take herself off to bed early. Strange that she had wanted to surround herself with people tonight. Paige also usually preferred alone time to remember her mother, in the company of a cheap red only.
Not tonight.
Sharni had come home from the pub early, happily milking the injury to her wrist according to Aiden. She’d opted to occupy the kids rather than do the dishes, and while Alice had offered to do kitchen duties after dinner, both Paige and Aiden had shaken their heads and said in unison, before laughing, ‘NO. WAY.’
With Alice gone, Paige was left fighting off the familiar urge to take that bad red to bed and drown in her own misery. Only Paige wasn’t miserable.
Why not?
With wine in hand, she settled on the veranda steps, rather than picking one of the mish-mash of chairs scattered along the porch. From the steps, away from the house lights, the full and glorious view of the night sky, pin-pricked with twinkling specks of silver, was clearer. One bright star, which Alice had once told Paige was Nancy watching over them, seemed to pulsate, pinning her gaze.
‘So what’s this favour I’m doing by drinking a very palatable unnamed red?’ Aiden asked, swirling the wine glass under his nose. He was leaning against the railing to her left, one denim-clad leg crossed at the ankle, chunky boots scratched and stained.
‘For a start, you’re saving me from another headache in the morning. That wine was coming to bed with me. Instead, I have you.’
‘Really?’ Aiden dropped to the step beside her, one eyebrow raised, the smirk alerting Paige to the oddness of the statement.
‘What I mean is . . .’ She gulped another mouthful. ‘Today is a kind of . . .’ She hated the word ‘anniversary’. It implied celebration, something to be remembered with joy and gratitude.
‘Anniversary?’ Aiden said it for her.
‘How do you do that? How do you know what it is I’m about to say?’
‘Dunno. Maybe we’re . . .’
‘Conjoined twins separated at birth?’
Aiden laughed. ‘See? Exactly what I was going to say. I should ask my father what he was doing forty years ago.’
‘You’ll have to. I don’t have one to ask.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. Come to think of it, I think you might have mentioned something about your dad in the car that first day. When did he die?’
‘I don’t know. I never had a father.’
Aiden eyed her. ‘You mean you never knew your father? Or when he died?’
‘Nope! I never had one at all.’
‘Um, not sure if you get the whole, you know, takes two to tango idea.’
Paige breathed deep, then swallowed down a mouthful of red. While she couldn’t appreciate the subtle qualities of a nice wine, she could relish the sensation of warmth flowing through her body.
‘Oh, I get the tangoing twosome bit,’ she said. ‘Kinda thought I wouldn’t need to spell out that with two mothers my father was a turkey baster.’
Aiden had to turn sharply to avoid spraying her with his mouthful of wine. He lifted a shoulder to mop his chin afterwards. ‘You’re going to have to run that by me again.’
‘Um, not sure if you get the whole, you know, who needs a man when you have a turkey baster idea?’ Paige grinned and held up a silencing hand. ‘I know you’re going to tell me a man remains an integral part of the process, but the tangoing twosome during conception is not necessarily a man and a woman—nor a tango, if you get my point. I thought you’d be a bit more aware of . . . you know . . . options for gay couples.’
‘You’re telling me your mother was . . . and Alice is . . . ?’
‘The word’s gay. You need to know I’m quite comfortable with the concept, so you don’t have to be afraid to use it around me—or any of us, for that matter. If anyone understands matters of . . . you know . . . sexual orientation, I do.’
‘Right, okay, I’ll make a mental note of that.’ He smiled through the next sip of wine and Paige thought the alcohol might be having an effect on him too, his body less taut, softening against her.
‘And the anniversary?’ he asked, topping up their glasses.
‘My mum’s passing, but . . . Can we talk about something else?’
They changed subjects, talking about anything and everything, their bodies fusing bit by body-shuddering bit: first shoulders, then arms, elbows, hands . . .
At the pub, Sharni had told Paige Aiden was confused about which way to turn. Right now, sharing the same starry sky and silky summer breezes, Paige was hoping he’d turn to her, kiss her and let her kiss him back. She looked down at her fingers curved around the lip of the step, mirroring his; the sensation of warm breath teasing her neck a sign Aiden was looking as well. His little finger twitched, once, moving again to brush hers this time and her chest all of a sudden felt like she’d swallowed a moth.
‘Wow!’ She jerked forward, fanning her body with the tails of her shirt. ‘Sure is warm. Think it’ll rain?’ She delivered the perfunctory line—Nancy’s favourite conversation starter to strangers on those long days in hospital waiting rooms—just as a light flickered on somewhere inside the house, slicing through the blackness of the porch and illuminating the couple in the dark.
‘Phew, yeah, sure is hot. Rain sure would cool things down,’ Aiden said a little too smartly. ‘Not so good if we want the roads open tomorrow.’
‘Oh? You heard they’re opening them?’
‘Not the main Calingarry road—not yet. Only south. You’ll be able to get home to Sydney.’
‘Home . . . Well then, I guess I’ll need to get organised and let Alice know.’ The nervous pitch in her voice had her sounding like a silly teenager out too late on a school night. She was acting like one, too. ‘It’ll make her night.’ Her mouth dry, Paige swallowed hard and coughed to compete with that pesky chest moth now leaping, fluttering, soaring. ‘I need water. Can I get you a glass at the same time?’ Paige was up and on her way to the kitchen before she got an answer, tugging at the shorts that had crept too high on her thigh.
Easing the screen door closed, she tiptoed along the hallway and into the kitchen. She hardly needed lights, the glow of her embarrassment providing ample illumination. Right or wrong—gay or not—Paige had wanted a calming cuddle tonight and moments ago, sitting so close to Aiden, she’d been overwhelmed—almost dizzy—with the need to connect with another human being. Had she not been married, with Alice and her daughter sleeping upstairs, she might have hugged Aiden, hoping he’d hug her in return, to distract her, to—
Who are you kidding. Paige?
A distraction was not what she’d wanted just now. What she’d wanted was to feed her fantasy world, the one she was constantly denying to her husband that she had. As she pushed the packet of Coffee Club roast aside to grab two water glasses, she thought about how Mall Man had fed her sex-starved imagination for weeks. Every morning after Robert left the bed, his shower and morning bathroom regime assuring her of twenty minutes alone, Paige had made every second count, the self-imposed satisfaction a far cry from her husband’s usual lovemaking sessions. His lack of attention in that department had been the subject of an argument after a work colleague’s wedding eighteen months ago.
That night, with Paige hopeful of rekindling some of that newly wedded bliss in her marriage, she slipped into the yellow satin nightshirt Robert had bought her one anniversary, pleased with the way it draped aroun
d her hips to disguise her post-baby belly. She waited for him to fall into bed and turn the lights off before she snuggled into him, melding her silky body to her husband’s warm, freshly showered contours.
Robert responded, rolled over, eyes heavy with alcoholic stupor and Paige closed hers, silently grateful she couldn’t smell his breath or taste a mouth stained with too much booze. Small mercies, she thought, taking the full weight of his body as he fumbled with his erection. He’d hardly entered when he fell against her, spent and murmuring unintelligibly.
An apology probably.
Paige shoved his chest, managing to drag her body out from underneath his bulk.
‘Thanks very bloody much,’ she growled, kicking the sheets away in her hurry to get out of bed.
‘Where are you going?’ Robert sat up, wavered and squinted across the room. The sight of him sitting ramrod-straight amused Paige for all the wrong reasons; his body was the only thing that had stood to attention tonight. ‘You don’t start something and walk away.’
‘I thought you were pretty well done.’
‘Yeah, well, what did you expect after all that cheap champers tonight? You wanted it, you got it.’
Paige’s jaw clenched so tight a pain shot through one cheek.
‘Well I might have got it but you sure don’t if that’s your idea of making love.’
‘Come on, Paige, we’re a bit past all that.’
‘You might be.’
‘What are you saying? You gotta have bubble baths and Barry White songs to have a good time?’
Paige had slammed both hands on her hips and laughed, anger mingling with pity. ‘Robert, if I had bubble bath and Barry White songs I wouldn’t need you to have a good time.’
Their relationship changed after that night. The only difference was, while Paige continued to imagine infidelity Robert went ahead and practised it.
Maybe that’s what she was doing here with Aiden, testing the boundaries, wanting to be a little bit bad, if only in her head. Back on the veranda, she handed Aiden a glass of water and sat down on the step beside him, hearing Alice’s words in her head: Two wrongs don’t make a right, Paige.
‘Did news of the open roads make Alice’s night?’ Aiden asked.
‘I decided that information could wait.’
With Alice either fed up with waiting, or having satisfied herself Paige was behaving, the light inside flicked off, putting them back into darkness.
‘So you grew up with two mothers?’
‘Or, as demonstrated by the lightshow just then, one mum and a shotgun.’ Paige smiled. ‘If Mum was with us still they’d be celebrating thirty years together next month.’
‘Whoa, that’s pretty awesome. I wonder when we’ll see a government with the balls to officially recognise that sort of commitment. It sucks, really,’ Aiden said. ‘Me, on the other hand, I’m not used to lasting relationships.’
‘Some unions, the really special ones, come with challenges, but they can be the sweeter for it, don’t you think? That sure was the case with Mum and Alice. They were lucky. They were soul mates. Nice when it happens,’ she added, dreamily.
‘Ask Aristophanes about soul mates,’ Aiden said.
‘Aristophanes?’ Paige racked her brain, desperately casting back to her university days. ‘You’re quoting Plato now?’
‘Greek Cookery 101. How to Plato Greek food.’ They laughed, shushing each other in the dark and laughing more until she realised Aiden knew his stuff. ‘The story is that humans originally had four arms, four legs, and a single head made of two faces. And I’ve known a few two-faced people, so they exist,’ he added, amusing Paige and making her settle in on the step. She leaned her torso against the post, laughing at the expressions that accompanied his storytelling. ‘Only because Zeus feared their power did he split them all in half, condemning them to spend their lives searching for the other half.’
‘Are you pulling my leg? I may not be able to smell, but this tale of yours is starting to stink a lot like a story Alice used to tell me when I was young, about the Dog Tail Ball.’
‘What ball?’
‘The Dog Tail Ball was a fancy ball that all the dogs in the land were invited to attend. As they went in they hung their tails up, but soon there was a fire. As they ran out, each dog grabbed any available tail, only to spend the rest of their days sniffing each other’s ends to find their own.’
‘Cute, but, no. Not quite the same story. And I know what you’re thinking; I’m not your typical philosophical type. Someone else told me that Aristophanes story. Someone who, at the time, suggested I was their soul mate. For a while I thought so too. I was so bloody hooked. Tom Cruise had nothing on me.’
‘Tom Cruise?’
‘Yeah, you know.’ Aiden’s index finger did a little air circle and a point, ending with both hands clasped over his heart as he delivered the line with his soppiest expression: ‘You. Complete. Me.’
Paige might have laughed aloud at Aiden’s take-off, only she didn’t want to be responsible for another Alice lightshow. Plus, there was a wisp of regret behind the banter.
‘There’s obviously a lot more to you than meets the eye, Aiden. What else do you believe? You reckon there’s nothing up there, watching, keeping us safe?’
‘Not sure what’s up there, or who.’
‘No aliens though, eh?’
‘No way are there aliens or things that go bump in the night.’
‘So, nothing frightens you?’
‘I didn’t say that. Plenty of things scare me.’
About to ask what, she noticed Aiden’s subtle glance at his watch. He cleared his throat and stood to brush the dust from his backside, the moment gone, leaving Paige feeling flat at the prospect of going to bed, but not being able to sleep.
‘Honey scares me if I’m late for work,’ he added. ‘And I’m back on shift as of tomorrow, so I’ll get going.’
‘Oh, sure.’ With a clumsy, jerky movement, they nearly head-butted each other as they went to say goodnight, his half-hug ending with an awkward air kiss, his skin a prickly cactus grazing her cheek.
‘See you.’
‘Good night. Sleep tight,’ she waved, but Aiden was already too far away for the late-night whisper. ‘Because I sure won’t.’
24
‘Pretty obvious he really likes you. I can tell,’ Sharni said, dropping a bright pink bucket of feed.
The stallion Paige had been stroking shied, nuzzled her arm as if to say ‘Thanks’, and took two lazy steps towards the food.
‘I like him, too. He seems calmer. Do you think he enjoys the attention?’
Sharni shot her a look, then cackled that crazy kookaburra laugh. ‘We’re obviously not talking about the same thing.’
‘What are you talking about? I’m talking about Aiden’s horse, Rebel.’
‘I’m talking about Aiden. You’re good for him.’
‘Oh, well, we have hit it off. He reminds me a little of a friend back home in Sydney. Only Giles is very gay. He camps it up all the time and doesn’t care what anyone thinks. No hiding behind a macho image. Fabulous sense of humour, like Aiden. Giles can always make me laugh.’
‘Gotta love a guy who can make a lady laugh—gay or not,’ Sharni said. ‘Speaking of laughter, Aido’s been through a lot of crap over the last few months and I can tell you I’ve never seen anything or anyone make him laugh or whistle a happy tune.’
‘He’s been whistling?’
Sharni nodded and shovelled another scoop of feed from the wheelbarrow into the plastic tub to occupy Rebel while she prepared another, smaller horse. ‘I also heard Stavros telling Margy who told Banjo, about the two of you fishing together.’
‘Yes, we were fishing—together. Is that allowed?’ Paige said cheekily. ‘The grapevine is very good out here. Probably as good as most city offices. But we’re hardly worth talking about.’
Sharni stared expectantly. ‘The one thing this town does well is gossip about romantic liaisons.
And scuttlebutt has documented some doozies over the years. Wouldn’t be a small town without an affair or two, would it? And don’t bother trying to keep your relationship a secret. Around these parts, a secret can seem like an affair.’
Paige laughed. ‘Yes, but . . .’
‘But what?’
‘Nothing,’ Paige said, sounding like her daughter. She thought about asking Sharni what the story was with the soul mate Aiden had spoken about last night, but the topic didn’t warrant further discussion. Paige didn’t want to gossip, but people could talk about her if they felt the need. No one was being hurt by it, not like Robert’s office grapevine. ‘What were you saying about Aiden? He’s been through a lot?’
‘How about we ride after I’ve fixed this hoof? Let’s see how you handle one of my stallions before I let you know what you’d be getting yourself into with Aiden.’
‘Sharni, I’m a bit surprised that you of all people—’
‘Not that he’s a stallion,’ she continued, oblivious. ‘Thinks he is, but then most blokes do. Traits sure are the same in both: prone to aggressive behaviour—particularly toward other stallions—and requiring careful management by knowledgeable handlers. By knowledgeable handlers I’m referring to a woman, of course.’ Despite having one wrist bandaged and a sprained ankle that still made her limp, Sharni climbed back over the corral fence in a kind of effortless leap and hurdle, collecting a canvas tool bag draped over the fence. ‘Come with me later. If you want we can check it’s okay with Alice, who I totally love having around, by the way, on account of she’s so good with the kids and she can cook. Her scones are to die for. I could get used to this live-in babysitter caper. Makes a change from having the responsibility on my own.’
‘Is, ah, Liam . . . ? Does he . . . take after his dad in many ways?’ It didn’t matter how much Paige stuttered, she still sounded nosy.
‘Maybe when he’s a bit older his face might tell me which one his father was. Whichever, he’s bound to have a good ear for country music.’ Sharni winked and ducked around, through, and under various parts of the small bay gelding that had hardly lifted its nose from the feed bucket. Then, turning her back to the horse, she lifted a leg, cradling it between her thighs. ‘I know, I know, not the best answer, but a truthful one. Thank God Liam saved me. I got into some shit, in more ways than one. Pass me that hoof rasp, will you? No, no, not the pick. Yes, that one. Thanks.’ She proceeded to file the horse’s hoof with long, confident stokes. ‘When a counsellor told me I had an addictive personality and I should distance myself from temptation, I thought an addictive personality meant he couldn’t get enough of me.’ She cackled. ‘When I finally understood he meant I was predisposed to forming addictions I decided to find something more positive to obsess over.’
Season of Shadow and Light Page 29