“It upsets me that you would think such a thing mother,” Willow pouted.
But Maggie knew her daughter better than that. “Well?” she said. “I’m waiting.”
“Fine. Can I have an ice cream?”
“What’s the magic word?” her grandmother asked.
“Abracadabra.”
Dot threw back her head and roared with laughter.
“Don’t encourage her,” Maggie said to her mother.
“Encourage what? She’s sassy, it’s a good character trait to have.”
“Well we all know where she gets it from, don’t we.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a little bit of sass,” Dot shrugged. “Better to have a kid with some spark then a wet blanket like Lois’s granddaughter. Now that kid needs a personality transplant.”
“Mum,” Maggie frowned, “don’t say things like that in front of Willow.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’ll go to school and repeat it, that’s why not. I got a phone call the other week from her principal complaining that Willow told the whole class that the teacher was an impotent fool. Now where do you think she heard that?”
Dot had the good grace to look guilty.
“Oh,” she said. “Right. Yes I may have said something along those lines. But in my defence I was talking to Ray, not Willow.”
“You see these things?” Maggie grabbed one of Willows ears in each hand and gave them a wiggle. “They’re called ears. And they’re always listening.”
Dot regarded her granddaughter, who was openly enjoying seeing her grandmother in trouble for once instead of her. “You did it on purpose didn’t you, knowing it would get back to your mother.” she guessed shrewdly.
Willow shrugged. “Hey I’m just a kid. You’re the adult who really should know better.”
“Well played,” Dot nodded admiringly, “well played indeed. Here,” she thrust a hand inside her shirt and rummaged around inside her bra, pulling out a ten dollar note. Dot didn’t believe in carting around a purse. If she couldn’t fit it in a pocket or in her bra then she didn’t need it. She passed the warm and slightly damp note over to a cringing Willow. “Get yourself an ice cream, and get me a chocolate cone too. You want one?” she asked this last question to Maggie.
“You know what, it’s so warm tonight I think I will. A strawberry one please.”
While Willow was gone and the stall was having a quiet lull, Maggie took the opportunity to tidy up the soaps, putting ones that had been mixed up back in the right place and seeing which ones needed restocking. She was almost all out of her Kowhai soap she noticed with surprise. The soap was made from the yellow flowers of the native tree, and was useful for when the bather was going through a crisis. It couldn’t give any answers, but it helped soothe and wash troubles and anxiety away, at least so a good night’s sleep could be had.
She was underneath the table, rummaging to find which bag she had more in when she heard a now familiar voice.
“Excuse me,” she heard Jack say to her mother. “But I was told I’d be able to find Maggie Tanner here?”
Maggie crawled as far under the table as she could, shaking her head up at her mother and mouthing the word, “Noooooo,” as clearly as she could.
“That depends,” Dot answered him.
“On what?”
“On who’s asking.”
Jack held out a hand. “My name is Jack. I’m a friend of Maggie’s.”
Underneath the table Maggies’ mouth dropped open. Friend? The man was more arrogant than she had first suspected.
“Pleasure to meet you Jack, I’m Maggie’s mother, Dot,” said Dot, taking the hand and admiring his long fingers. “You know, I thought I knew all of Maggie’s friends, but I’ve never heard mention of you before.”
“It’s a fairly, recent, friendship. Lovely to meet you too Dot. Wow, I can see where Maggie gets her good looks from.”
Dot preened. He was smooth, she’d give him that. It made a welcome change from some of the farmers around here who barely knew how to talk to a woman, let alone woo one.
“Seems to me Maggie might have mentioned someone as good looking as you,” she cooed flirtatiously, and then flinched and swore as her ankle was slapped hard from underneath the table. Jack heard the sound of the slap and smiled.
“Maggie’s stepped away for a moment,” Dot told Jack. “But I can pass on a message if you like.”
“Sure thanks, that’d be great. Can you let her know that I’ll get the bill for the damage to the truck tomorrow, but we can discuss that over dinner. I’ll pick her up around seven. Tell her to wear something sexy.”
That was it. Maggie went to stand up, outraged, but in her hurry she failed to back out far enough and smacked her head on the underside of the table as she got up.
“Son of a bitch,” she swore, rubbing it.
“Don’t swear,” said Dot.
“Maggie,” Jack said in fake surprise. “Excuse me,” he said, and leant forward over the table to peer down.
“What are you looking for?” Maggie asked him irritably.
“Just checking if there’s anyone else hiding down there.”
“I wasn’t hiding, for your information. I was getting more soap.”
He looked pointedly at her empty hands.
“You interrupted me.”
“Right. I was just telling your mother that I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow. For dinner. Wear something nice.”
“I heard. And obviously I wasn’t clear enough this afternoon when I said not in a million years. So let me see if I can spell it out a little clearer. I’m not interested. You are annoying, rude and arrogant, and I wouldn’t date you if you were the only man left alive.”
“Phew,” Jack whistled through his teeth. “Say what you really think why don’t you. Don’t hold back out of any concern for my feelings.”
“Feelings? I doubt you understand the meaning of the word. You insulted my parenting and my home today and that showed zero concern for my feelings.”
“That was a misunderstanding, and if you crawled out of your own butt for a second and looked at it from my point of view you would appreciate the fact that I was only expressing my concern.”
“See that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Rude. You just proved my point one hundred percent.”
He sighed and held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m sorry, again. Look, how about we start afresh. Pretend today never happened, and get to know each other properly.”
“Like I said, I’m not interested. Besides, I think my husband might have something to say about it.”
She heard Dot start to say something beside her and kicked out, connecting with an ankle again.
“Ouch. Will you please stop doing that?”
Maggie ignored her and stared at Jack defiantly. He held her gaze longer than was polite, his eyes roaming over her face. She could see something in his eyes that she hadn’t seen from a man in a long time, and it both thrilled and terrified her.
“My apologies,” he finally said. “I was led to believe you were single and available.”
“You were given the wrong information. I’m married.” She tucked her hand behind her so he wouldn’t see the lack of a ring.
“My apologies again,” he said, but she could tell from the questioning tilt to his head that he knew she wasn’t telling him the entire story.
“Oh great, it’s you.” Willow was back with the ice creams. She frowned at Jack. “What do you want?”
“Willow, don’t be rude,” Maggie said, despite the fact that the statement made her a hypocrite. She took the strawberry cone that Willow passed her. Her daughter had lingered and detoured on her way back, and the ice cream had started to succumb to the heat that still shimmered in the air. Ribbons of melted ice cream were making their way down the sides of the cone and on to her hand. Without thinking she licked them off, and blushed when she saw Jack watching her.
“What are
you still doing here?” she snapped, embarrassed that her body had reacted without her control. “Go away, you’re blocking potential customers.”
He turned and looked over his left shoulder, then his right. There was no one behind him. Making his point without a word, he turned back to her.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll leave you to it. Lovely to meet you Dot, and as always a pleasure to see you, Willow.” And with one last smile flicked at Maggie he left. Her eyes followed him until she realised the other two were regarding her with interest.
“What?” she asked defensively.
“Anything you’d care to tell me?” Dot asked.
“No.”
“What did he mean by ‘damage to his truck’?”
“It’s nothing, drop it.”
“Didn’t sound like nothing,” Dot said, but she let it go because Willow was watching them. She fully intended on raising the subject later with Maggie, but for now she sat in a deck chair and enjoyed her ice cream.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” Maggie annouced heading out from behind the stall. She didn’t add that she needed to splash some cold water on her still burning cheeks.
“How very interesting,” Dot mused, watching her daughter make her way through the throngs of people enjoying the evening. “It’s fairly obvious what’s going to happen there, if you ask me.”
“What?” asked Willow.
“What’s what?” Dot jumped in her chair, she had forgotten that her granddaughter was listening.
“You said it’s obvious what’s going to happen there - what’s going to happen?”
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people. It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
Willow sighed. “I didn’t sneak up on anyone. I was standing right here the whole time. Maybe you should actually wear your glasses for a change.”
“Wash your mouth out,” Dot reached out a hand to smack playfully at Willow. Aging and its bag of side effects was a touchy subject with Dot. She preferred to ignore it and pretend it wasn’t happening.
“Hey,” said Nick, who had arrived at the stall and was standing there looking nonchalant, as if he hadn’t just turned up hours too late to help out.
“Where’ve you been?” Willow demanded.
He shrugged. “Around. I came by earlier but you guys were packed. Didn’t seem to need me so I went and ate some food and watched the bands.”
“Typical.”
“So are you done?”
Willow turned to her grandmother, smiling sweetly. “Grandmother darling, you know how much I love you, right?”
“Go,” Dot laughed. “But be back in an hour. I’ll square it with your mother.”
“Thanks Gran,” Willow kissed her quickly on the cheek, after making sure no one from school was around to notice, then she took off with Nick.
Dot watched her go and her expression turned serious. The kid was growing up. She wouldn’t be as easy to fool anymore. If Dot had her way they would have come clean to her years ago, but Maggie had stuck to her guns in a misguided effort to protect her daughter. Dot wondered if the arrival of Jack in their lives was going to change anything. He certainly didn’t seem the type to give up easily.
Ah well, she thought. Only time would tell.
Chapter seven
“So what’s for dinner tonight?”
This innocent question was not typically a question most mothers would ask their young daughter on a Sunday morning. But then this had never claimed to be a typical household.
“Dunno, just on my way out to check now.”
When Willow was out the front door and far enough out of earshot Ray, who was sitting at the kitchen table, lowered his newspaper and gave Maggie ‘a look’. He had finished his porridge and was loitering over coffee and the paper.
“What?” she asked.
“You know what. How much longer are you going to keep this up?”
“Now is not the time to discuss it dad.”
“Your mother and I think you need to be straight with her.”
“Seriously dad, leave it. So what’s it to be?” Maggie asked the last bit loudly as Willow re-entered the house. “Personally I’m hoping for chicken. We haven’t had one of those for awhile, have we dad?” Her tone warned her father to play along.
“No,” Ray sighed. “We haven’t.” He lifted the paper back up in front of his face.
“Sorry mum, looks like Lamb,” said Willow carrying the large cut of meat in a plastic bag gingerly in front of her. “Yuck, all the blood is dripping out of a hole in one corner.”
“Quick pass it here then,” Maggie opened the oven drawer and pulled out a roasting pan. She held it out and Willow dropped the meat inside with a thud then walked to the sink to wash her hands.
“It’s a big one alright,” Maggie commented. “It’ll be delicious slow roasted with some rosemary and garlic.”
Willow finished washing her hands and then walked to the fridge to get juice. She stood there with the door open, perusing the contents.
Maggie frowned, watching her. Willow didn’t seem too enthused by the roast, and as much as she was loath to admit it, maybe her parents were right? Her little white lie all those years ago had snowballed and now she had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to come clean, although she knew she would have to eventually. One day Willow was going to start asking more questions.
Dot came banging through the back door with an empty washing basket in her hands.
“Those towels will be dry in about ten minutes I reckon,” she said. “That’s some breeze kicking up out there. It’s lovely though, I can smell summer lurking just around the corner.”
“Oh yeah?” said Willow, sitting down at the table with her juice. “And what does Summer smell like exactly?”
“You don’t know? And you call yourself a writer? My girl, use your imagination.” Dot stood behind Willow and placed her hands on her shoulders. “Close your eyes,” she told her. “Right I’ll start. Summer to me smells like cut grass, and hot tar seal. It smells like the pollen of freesias, jasmine and lilacs, honeysuckle and sweet peas, mixed with the stench of cow manure from the farms of course,” she laughed when Willow screwed her face up. “Now you think, what does summer smell like to you?”
Willow thought of hot summer days. “Coconut scented sun tan lotion,” she finally said, “and chlorine in my hair from the pool at school.”
“Good,” her grandmother nodded. “Very good.”
Ray lent back in his seat. “For me, summer smells of sausages, steaks and corn cobs grilling and sizzling on the BBQ.”
“A freshly sliced watermelon,” Maggie joined in as she finished scrambling some eggs and slid them on to a plate which she put down in front of her daughter.
“Clean and crisp sheets that have been hanging in the sun all day,” said Dot.
They all started adding new ones as they thought of them.
“That sulphuric smell in the air just before a thunderstorm, and the clean smell of the concrete after summer rain.”
“The smell a tomato plant makes when you brush up against it.”
“Citronella candles to scare the mossies away on hot nights.”
“Fresh mint ice tea.”
“Strawberries warm from the sun.”
“The smell of water when it comes out of a hose that has been lying on the lawn all day in the sun.”
“Sweat from thirty kids cooped up in a classroom.”
“That’s disgusting Willow.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I remember the hot sweet smell of my mother canning fruit,” Dot said wistfully.
“My dad’s cigarette smoke as he tinkered with something out in the garage, doing his darnedest to stay out of my mother’s way,” said Ray.
“Algae from when the lake overflows and then drains away, leaving pockets of water behind that turn stagnant,” Willow said.
Her family stared at her.
“What?” she asked defensively.
“That was a lovely description,” her mother said, kissing her on the top of her head. “You are going to be a wonderful writer one day.”
“Well thankfully we don’t have long to wait before we can smell all that again,” Dot said as she picked the basket up from the table where she had rested it while she reminisced. “What’s for dinner?” she asked, as she headed past them towards the laundry.
“Lamb.”
“Delicious.”
Willow finished off her eggs and pushed back her chair.
“Lift it, don’t scrape it.”
“Mum, can I go meet Nick now?”
“Ok. You two got something planned?”
“Fishing.”
“In the lake?”
“Creek.”
“Bring me home trout this big for the smoker,” said Ray, extending his hands as wide as he could to either side of him.
“I’ll try my hardest.”
Willow left the kitchen and about five seconds later they heard her scream, “Nooooo.” They both jumped to their feet and ran to the front door.
“What is it, what’s wrong?” Maggie called out, her heart all the way up in her mouth from the sound of her daughter in trouble. She stopped at the top of the steps when she saw her daughter standing in the drive, still in one piece and, as far as Maggie could tell, unscathed. Then Maggie saw what had made Willow howl the way she had.
“You again.”
“Morning,” Jack said cheerfully. He was holding out something made of pink plastic, with large comical strawberry faces plastered all over it. Willow’s raincoat. Willow herself had backed away and was staring at him as if had come bearing a human head on a stick.
“Where the hell did you find that?” she asked in disbelief.
“Willow, don’t swear.”
“But…the last time I saw that thing was at the bottom of the lake. Weighed down with stones. I thought I’d finally got rid of it.” She saw her mother’s face and hurriedly added, “I mean, I was really worried that I’d never see it again.”
“Anyone would think you tried to lose it on purpose,” said Dot as she emerged from the house to see what all the noise was about.
“Well duh, of course I did.”
“Willow,” Maggie warned.
A Roast on Sunday Page 5