by Kate Lattey
Mum and I had found the truck for sale online, and we’d both been so excited about it that she’d decided she couldn’t wait for Dad to get home and give his permission. She’d called the owner that afternoon, and bought the truck before Dad even realised the money had left his account.
“You tried to return it. The truck,” I said, and Dad looked confused at first, then nodded.
“I did. We couldn’t afford it.”
I kept my eyes on his. “But we kept it.”
He nodded. “Leaving was bad enough. I didn’t want you to lose anything else, so I took out the necessary loan and paid it off.”
“Why did you move to Australia?”
“Work. Big money over there, working on the gas pipeline. Hard work and long hours, but meals and accommodation were included. I worked hard and only spent what money I had to. Made it easy to save.”
“You didn’t think child support was necessary?” I asked bitterly.
Dad looked guilty as he finished his steak and set down his knife. “I wanted to be sure the money would go to you, for things you needed. Not to your mother to fritter away on those bloody horses.” I narrowed my eyes at him, and he sensed that he’d taken a misstep, but carried on. “I set up a bank account for you, put what I could into it. You’ll get the money once you’re eighteen.”
“And if I decide to spend it on more bloody horses?”
Dad sighed. “Then that’ll be your decision. But I hope you’ll have more sense when the time comes.”
“Yeah, well. Chances aren’t good.” The rugby players ran back onto the field, ready for the game to resume. “Can we go now? I’m tired.”
Dad looked at my plate. “You’ve barely eaten.”
“I don’t like it. It tastes weird. Sorry,” I added, thinking of the money he’d wasted. Clearly that was something he cared deeply about. “I’ll have something when I get home.”
He hesitated, then pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. “Okay. We’ll go.”
CHAPTER TEN
We didn’t go to any shows that weekend. Wairarapa 2* was on, but it wasn’t worth travelling all that way with only Forbes and Puppet in the truck. And Squib, I supposed, but I’d told Mum that I didn’t feel like showing that weekend. She’d immediately felt my forehead and asked if I was okay, which had only made me snap at her that maybe I was getting sick of traipsing around the shows all the time, and would it kill her to let me have a weekend off?
I’d almost meant it at the time, but it had soon transpired that I didn’t know how to entertain myself over a weekend if I wasn’t competing. After riding Forbes and Puppet, hand-walking Robin and going for a long run, I’d taken AJ up on her offer of a sleepover, which was how I’d ended up sitting on the couch in her family room, watching Mean Girls on the TV and thinking about Anders.
I’d barely seen him since the day he’d given me a ride home. Our paths didn’t cross much at school, and AJ had started to get suspicious when I’d asked after him, so I’d had to stop. As much as I liked him, my unrequited crush wasn’t worth putting my friendship with AJ in jeopardy. I’d hoped to see him when I arrived at her house, but he was miles away at rugby training in Whanganui, and hadn’t arrived home until half an hour ago. He’d stuck his head into the room and said hi, grabbed a handful of our popcorn despite AJ’s protestations, then yawned and gone off to bed before I’d had a chance to say more than “Hi” back to him. So now I was watching a movie that I’d seen a thousand times before, fighting off my own yawns as the clock ticked closer and closer towards midnight.
Finally the movie ended, and AJ dumped the popcorn dregs into the rubbish bin, and I stood up and stretched and thought longingly of my bed at home. The airbed on the floor of AJ’s room – a room she shared with Astrid – really wasn’t conducive to a good night’s sleep. I could feel the old homesickness creeping up on me, and I desperately tried to fight it. Homesickness was stupid. Only little kids got homesick, and I was fifteen now. Way too old for that crap.
AJ opened the back door and followed Dax out into the dark, ready to shut him into his kennel run for the night, and suddenly I missed Critter. Missed his little claws scrabbling across the floor, missed his soft little snores as he curled up against me at night, missed the way he licked my chin when I cuddled him.
Stop it. Pull yourself together. I smiled at AJ as she came back into the house and locked the door behind her, then followed her into her bedroom and grabbed my pyjamas, then went into the bathroom and changed. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, combed out my hair. Stared at my reflection in the mirror, wishing that I was prettier, that my face wasn’t so narrow and pinched-looking, that my hair was thicker and wavier. At least my skin was good, I supposed, throwing everything back into my toiletries bag and creeping across the dark hallway and into AJ’s room.
She had the lamp on next to her bed, ignoring her sister who was softly snoring on the other side of the room. AJ tossed her phone down onto her bed as I came in, and went out to brush her own teeth. I reached for the sleeping bag that was still rolled up on AJ’s bed, and my eye caught the picture on her phone just before it disappeared.
Swallowing hard, I picked the phone up and swiped the screen back into life. Fortunately for me, AJ didn’t keep her phone password protected, and it took me straight back to the Facebook app. The photo was exactly what I’d thought it was, and it hit me in the gut like a sucker punch. Susannah. Molly. A bright blue sash around the pony’s neck. A smug smile on her rider’s face. A caption that burned my heart to read. Molly, the latest addition to our team. Finished a v close 2nd in the 1.20 at Wairarapa today. Love her already!
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the picture. As I scrolled down, I bumped the comments section with my thumb, and another screen popped up. 8 people like this. I felt a moment of satisfaction at that. Susannah had posted the pic two hours ago, and only eight people liked it. If I’d posted that pic, I’d have had over a hundred likes within an hour. But then, Susannah didn’t have many friends. I ran my eye down the comments, and then got another kick in the gut as I saw AJ’s name. Well done and go Molly, she looks so happy with you, she’d written. And Susannah had liked her comment, and posted a reply. I couldn’t bring myself to click on that. I didn’t want to know what she had to say. The only thing I wanted to know was what the hell was going on, and when did my best friend start Facebooking my worst enemy?
AJ came back into the room then, and I stared at her, my hand shaking. I’d told her, time and time and time again, what a terrible person Susannah was. And even if she wasn’t, what was AJ doing congratulating her on her success on my pony?
She’s not your pony anymore, the voice in my head reminded me. SHUT UP! I told it as I threw her phone back onto the bed and faced my friend.
“I want to go home.”
AJ had the grace to look guilty, knowing exactly what I’d seen. “Did you…Katy, I’m sorry. But I wanted to see how she was. Keep tabs on her, and I knew you wouldn’t, so…”
It didn’t make it okay. None of this was okay. “I have to go home now.”
AJ frowned at me. “Shh! Everyone’s in bed.” She looked at her sister, whose snoring had ceased. I didn’t care if Astrid woke up. I didn’t care if the whole houseful of them woke up. I couldn’t stay here any longer. I pulled my phone out of my bag and rang Mum, my fingers still shaking. AJ sat on her bed and muttered apologies at me, offering to delete her comment to Susannah, to unfriend or block her, but I ignored her. The damage was done.
Come on, pick up! The phone rang, and rang. Finally the answer machine picked up, and I hung up in frustration, then tried Mum’s cell. AJ had quit trying to talk me out of it, and I tucked my knees up into my chest as I listened to the phone connect. It didn’t even ring – just went straight to voicemail. What the hell? Where was she? A rising tide of panic swept over me. I was trapped here. I had to stay. I couldn’t stay.
I got up and left the room, ignoring AJ’s whispered pleas to sta
y, and went straight to Anders’ room. I was beyond caring about anything right now other than finding someone who would drive me home, and I knocked firmly. AJ was watching me from her doorway, and I saw her shake her head slowly as I knocked again.
Anders opened the door. His hair was rumpled and he was only wearing a loose pair of boxer shorts. A fleeting sense of embarrassment washed over me, before I thought about what would happen if I couldn’t convince him to give me a ride. I’d have to ring a taxi or risk waking AJ’s parents, or…
“What’s wrong?” Anders had that same concerned look on his face that he’d had a few days ago at the sports field, and he leaned past me and looked towards AJ’s room, but she was gone.
“Can you take me home?” I couldn’t stop the thickness in my voice, and I realised with disgust that I was going to cry soon. Why did I have to be so pathetic? I couldn’t even tell anymore if it was anger at AJ or bitterness towards Susannah or disappointment in Molly or just the overwhelming homesickness that was making me so emotional. All I knew was that I couldn’t control it, no matter how hard I tried.
Anders was nodding. “Sure. Give me a sec to get dressed.” He pushed the door almost shut, just leaving a crack of light showing, and I stood in the dark hallway and waited. When he opened it again, he had jeans and a hoodie on, and his car keys dangled from his fingertips.
“Let’s go.” He flicked his light switch off, leaving us in the dark, then put a hand on my shoulder and guided me towards the front door. Then he stopped, and glanced back up the hall. “Wait here. I’m just going to check on Poss.”
“She’s fine.” I shivered, suddenly aware that I was wearing pyjamas with dolphins on them, and my feet were bare. But Anders had already walked away, his own bare feet travelling soundlessly across the carpeted floor, and I shifted my weight restlessly as I waited for him to return.
It didn’t take long. He was back in moments with my overnight bag slung over his shoulder, and he unlocked the front door and held it open for me as I stepped out into the dark, cool night.
We didn’t talk much on the way home. Anders rubbed his eyes a couple of times and yawned, but just shook his head when I apologised for dragging him out of bed.
“Don’t worry about it. Happens.” I didn’t know exactly what he meant by that. I supposed it depended on what AJ had told him had happened, but I couldn’t bring myself to get into it. I just wanted to be at home.
When we pulled up in front of my house at last, I let out a breath that I didn’t know I’d been holding. Everything was back where it should be. I opened the car door and smelled the familiar scent of horses and hay and grass, and heard Lucas shifting around in his stable, bored by his long confinement.
“Thanks.”
“All good.” Anders reached into the back seat and pulled my bag out, passing it to me as I stepped out of the car, the stones biting into my bare feet. I’d left my shoes at their house, but I didn’t care. “Sure you’re okay?”
I nodded, glancing across towards the house. It was only then that I noticed that not everything was where it was meant to be. Mum’s car was missing. Anders must’ve seen the frown on my face, because he asked me again what was wrong.
“Mum’s not here. I didn’t realise she was going out.” I leaned back into the car and looked at the dashboard clock. Almost midnight. She was never out this late, and a bad feeling settled over me. “That’s weird.”
Anders gazed past me, looking at the empty house. “Want me to stay with you ‘til she gets back?”
I was tempted to say yes, but I shook my head. “It’s okay. You should get home, get some sleep. I’ve got a key.”
“Sure?”
I nodded, even though I wasn’t. Then I caught a glimpse of headlights coming up our driveway, and we both turned to see Mum’s car coming bouncing over the potholes. She dimmed her lights as we squinted at her, and parked next to the house. I pulled my bag out and hefted it onto my shoulder, ignoring the way the strap cut into my shoulder blade.
“She’s home now. Thanks again. I owe you one.”
I caught a flash of Anders’ grin right before Mum flicked her headlights off and we were plunged back into darkness. “I’ll hold you to that.”
I shut the car door and he reversed out as I walked over to the house. Mum was out of her car and watching me approach, looking puzzled.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Would people stop asking me that?” I didn’t mean to snap at her, but it just came out. “I just felt like coming home, that’s all.”
Mum was giving me a suspicious look, like she knew I was homesick again and wanted to remind me that I should be over that by now, so I pushed past her and went to the front door, shivering in the cold. She noticed that, at least, so unlocked the door and flicked the light on. Critter came scrabbling over to meet us, and I scooped him up and hugged him tight as I went straight to my room and fell into bed, exhausted.
* * *
Critter woke me up by licking my face, and I pushed him off.
“Gross,” I muttered, rolling over onto my other side and trying to ignore him. But he jumped off the bed and scrabbled at the door, and I knew if I didn’t get up soon there would be a wet patch on the carpet. Groaning, I got up and let him out, then decided that I might as well go for a run.
When I got home, Dad was there. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about everything he’d told me, but I knew that I wasn’t up for another heart-to-heart. I was still a little out of breath as he got out of his car and smiled tentatively at me.
Mum’s not home, I realised, and I wondered where she could be. The truck was gone too, and then I remembered her saying something about getting the mechanic to look at it this morning.
“Been for a run?”
Duh. I just nodded, and he shifted his weight onto the other foot.
“I have to head up to Auckland,” he told me. “Got a job interview up there.”
So much for moving back, then. And just when I’d started to think I might be able to handle having him around. “Okay,” I said noncommittally.
“I wanted to give you this,” he said, reaching into the car, and my heart pounded in anticipation for a moment before he pulled out a white envelope and handed it to me. “For your birthday.”
Oh yeah. My birthday was in three days’ time. I took the envelope from him, wishing it was my eighteenth and not my sixteenth, and that the envelope meant access to the child support he owed me. Well, he was going to have to start paying that soon anyway, now that he was back in the country. Unless the Auckland interview was for another overseas job…
“Thanks.” I held the envelope tightly, feeling the crease of thin cardboard inside it. A card. How generous. It wasn’t thick enough to have a wad of cash inside it, and it hardly mattered now. The one thing I’d wanted money for was already gone. “I need to take a shower.”
“Okay.” Dad hovered for a moment as though he wanted to hug me, so I took a step backwards.
“See ya.”
Inside the house, I threw the card down onto the coffee table without opening it, and took a long hot shower. My fingers were starting to wrinkle by the time I finally stepped out. I heard the rumble of our truck engine coming up the driveway. That’d be Mum home, and I dried off and pulled on some clothes, then wandered back into the lounge and flopped down onto the couch as she came into the house.
“Morning.”
“Hey.” I looked around for the TV remote, but I couldn’t see it. Mum shifted her weight restlessly, a strange expression on her face.
“Is your father here?”
“Do you see his car?” I asked. “Been and gone. How’d you know?”
Mum shrugged. “He said he was going to come by and wish you a happy birthday.”
“He did that. Now he’s off to a job interview.” I picked up the bent envelope and waved it at her. “Left me this, though. Aren’t I lucky?”
“What is it?”
“A card, I’m
guessing. I don’t know.”
I was sick of the inquisition, so I got up and went into the kitchen. Mum followed me, watching as I pulled a banana out of the fruit bowl and peeled it, then took a bite.
“Aren’t you going to open it?”
I looked sceptically at the card that I’d tossed onto the bench. “What’s the point? It’s just a card.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Mum replied, so just to shut her up, I tore the envelope open and pulled the card out. It had a horse on the front. Nice try, Dad. The horse looked a bit like Molly. I opened it, half-hoping that a cheque would fall out, but nothing. Only a brief scrawl in Dad’s handwriting underneath the printed happy birthday message.
For all the ones I’ve missed. Love, Dad.
“Seriously?” I asked Mum. “One card, for everything he missed?”
Mum shrugged. “Oh well. I picked up some feed while I had the truck out, would you go and unload it for me? My shoulder’s playing up again.”
“Fine.” Lugging heavy feed sacks around actually sounded appealing right now. Something tough and physical to take my mind off how much of a disappointment my father had proven to be, yet again.
The truck was parked in the middle of the yard, and I looked critically at it as I walked up to the ramp. Your fault, I told the hapless vehicle. You’re the straw that broke the camel’s back. Although if it hadn’t been the truck, it would’ve been something else. That much was obvious, at least now. I undid the clip at the back and hit the button that would lower the hydraulic ramp, my thoughts still wandering. At least he let us keep it. That can’t have been easy. The ramp settled onto the gravel with a crunch, and I took a step up onto it, then stopped and stared.
There was no feed in the truck. But there was a bay pony with a white star, staring back at me.