by Hill, Joanne
“I’ve got it,” Sage called as she stalked over, and picked up Ruby with a grunt. “Sheesh.” She murmured out the side of her mouth to Robyn, “Gained a bit, hasn’t she?”
“Mrs Parker has added to her housekeeping role that of ‘honorary grandmother’, which means she bakes a lot. She tries to make low sugar versions of everything but it’s clearly not working.” Robyn patted her stomach. “Jack and the boys are the ones who don’t seem to gain as much as a centimetre.”
“Ah, so you’ve put on weight,” Ethan remarked. He thought Robyn had put on weight, and had speculated on what the reason might be.
Robyn stared at him. “You actually noticed?”
He noticed Sage smirk.
“Only now with your hand over your stomach,” he fudged.
Robyn looked relieved. Sage looked away, and he had the feeling she was trying not to laugh.
She announced, “Come on, Ruby, come with me and show me what room I should sleep in.”
Ruby stared at Ethan as she said, “Are you and that man going to sleep in the same bed like Mummy and Jack do?”
There was silence.
Jack was looking menacingly at him in a ‘don’t you dare’ way, Robyn was doing a bad job of suppressing laughter, and Sage had gone pale.
I am more offended by being called that man, Ethan told himself, than the idea that he and Sage could possibly share a bed.
Sage hastily whisked Ruby away, and Ethan concluded it was going to be damned near impossible to survive the night.
As soon as Robyn and Jack left, Ethan bribed the boys with pizza for dinner if they stayed on their devices as long as possible. He checked the cricket time, and then took off to the nearest supermarket to get in beer and snacks.
He arrived back to find Sage in the kitchen chopping up vegetables. He checked his watch. It had only just gone nine.
A lifetime to go.
“You can do your own thing,” Sage said, as she passed Ruby a plate with pieces of chopped up carrot and apple. “I’m good here.”
“No, I’m good.” He snagged a piece of carrot from Ruby’s bowl and she gasped in horror and glared at Ethan.
“It’s okay, Ruby,” Sage said smoothly. She pulled a cartoon plate from the cupboard. “I’ll make that man his own.”
“You don’t need—” On second thought, he rather liked the idea of it. His foster mothers would never have done this, and it wasn’t like he was about to have his own kids. Ever. Might be the only time he got to use a cartoon plate and not feel like a pervert. “That would be good.”
He pulled up the seat next to Ruby and she deliberately pushed her plate further to the other side.
He drummed his fingers on the counter. “What’s the plan for the day?” He glanced at Ruby. “Shouldn’t these kids be at school?”
“Nope. Last Friday of the school holidays.” Sage set a bowl of carrot and apple in front of him.
“Of course. Wondered why the traffic was so much lighter. All those parents taking their kids to school and jamming up the roads are off duty.”
Sage began to fix coffee. “Parents often have to drop their kids off. Most work and want to know their children are safely at school.” She set cups on the counter. “Did your folks work?”
He munched on some apple to avoid answering straight away. Then he swallowed, looked away from her. “I was brought up in the state system most of the time. Foster parents.”
He felt her curious glance. She said, “Did you have a rough time?”
He wondered if Jack had filled her in. Robyn knew some of it. Knew that while Jack’s background had been lacking so much with his parents, Ethan’s had been worse.
“There are good foster parents around,” he said. “I just never got that lucky.”
Sage was watching him closely. Too closely. He put a bit of carrot on Ruby’s dish. “That’s to make up for the one I stole,” he told her.
She graced him with an expression that may have been a smile.
“Working in childcare,” Sage said, “I see a lot.” She turned away to watch the coffee drip through the machine, and he took the opportunity to look at her. He liked looking at her. She had wide hips. Her hair was tied on her head, but loose bits straggled around her shoulders. She stuck a hand on one hip as she reached around to rub at the base of her spine. He followed the movement.
She went on, her back still to him, “It’s hard to know what to do sometimes. There are parents who are just completely useless. Some are pure evil. Then there are others who can’t cope with being parents. They’re in bad situations and it’s just not working.”
He focused back on his plate, but didn’t feel like eating any more. He cleared his throat. “Sounds like you should have done psychology.”
She looked at him over her shoulder. “I sometimes think that myself, but I doubt I’d have had the patience for it. Harriet would, though. She’s got a very wise head on her insanely young shoulders.” She glanced at the microwave clock. “I might text her, see if she’s up yet.”
He said, “If she’s wise, then it’s all your doing.”
She looked around at him, surprise in her eyes.
“She probably inherited it from you,” he added. “Wisdom.” He shrugged.
Sage seemed to ponder it, as if she’d never considered herself as being wise in life. Academic intelligence and wisdom, he’d learnt, were not at all concurrent attributes in human beings.
“You think?” she said.
“Of course.” He realised he’d paid her another compliment and quickly changed the subject. “How’s that coffee coming along?”
“It’s there.”
She poured it, and took the seat opposite.
She added soy to her coffee and stirred.
They both looked at their cups.
Ruby began to kick her feet against the breakfast bar. The sound was loud.
“I should check on the boys,” Sage said.
“The boys are okay,” he said suddenly.
She looked up slowly, looked straight at him, and he couldn’t for the life of him look away.
She had such enigmatic green-grey eyes. He could imagine her lying in bed, looking at him with that expression. Could imagine him just wallowing in it, and then reaching out to her, stroking her cheek...
Base attraction.
He gave himself a mental kick up the arse.
“I’ve finished,” Ruby announced, and climbed down from her stool.
Ethan dragged his gaze away from Sage.
Sage cleared her throat. “Ruby, what do you want to do?”
“Play games,” she said, and ran off to join the boys.
A moment later there were howls of disapproval from the boys, and Ethan winced.
“The last time I had to look after them, they were quiet. What happened?”
“They’re familiar with each other now. It changes everything.”
“Apparently not for the better.”
“You really don’t know much about children, do you?”
He grinned. “Nope. So I’m putting all my trust in you to get through. You being the expert and all.”
He glanced towards the front as they heard the horn of a car beeping.
Sage frowned. “That can’t be Robyn and Jack.”
They both went out to the foyer, and Ethan pulled open the front door.
Outside, Mrs Parker walked up the steps as a taxi reversed out onto the road, the gates closing behind it.
Sage said, “Mrs Parker? You’re not meant to be here. You’re sick.”
“I was sick. Now I’m bored, and I’d rather be bored keeping an eye on you all here.”
Sage followed her gaze to where Ethan stood just inside the doorway, his arms folded against his chest. In THAT pose. Sage ignored the shiver up her spine.
Ethan shook his head, but there was a smile on his face. “Now, now, Mrs P. We don’t need you to keep an eye on us.”
“I think she meant Eric and the twins,�
� Sage began, then stopped. “What? You mean us? You mean me and Ethan?”
Mrs Parker rolled her eyes in a ‘Duh’ way.
Sage said, “You think we need to have an eye kept on us?”
“She does. So I guess it’s up to you and me, Sage, to prove her wrong.” Ethan moved up behind her, slung his arm around her and pulled her close. She was trapped and had no choice but to put her arm around his waist, unless she wanted to look like a twit with her arms dangling at her side.
His grip on her tightened. Why did he have to smell so good? And feel so good?
She thought of Barry, skin-and-bone Barry. Ethan was padded. With muscles. Good god, she felt so protected. As if Ethan could fend with one hand while keeping the other—
“Isn’t that right, Sage?” Ethan said.
Sage’s eyes shot open. “What?”
Mrs Parker stared at her, a knowing look in her eyes. “I was saying to McGraw that you and he should go out for breakfast. Café up the road does one until ten, and they do all that vegetarian stuff you like. I’ll look after Jack and Robyn’s lot, load them up on pancakes.”
Breakfast out. It would be nice to escape – or rather, extricate herself – from the children. There were still another thirty-six hours to go. Plus, she and Ethan could lay some ground rules so they both knew where they stood. An hour of uninterrupted discussion time and food.
“I think we’d be delighted,” Ethan announced.
“We would,” Sage agreed.
“It’s my treat,” Ethan told her.
He squeezed her waist.
She dropped her arm away from him. “I wouldn’t agree unless it was.”
Sage hadn’t been out for a meal in a long time. There were the odd soy lattes at Wise Weta, the odd coffee out with Robyn, but not as often as when Robyn had been just across the fence. There was also, she admitted, a bit of a guilt complex about spending money when she could be giving more to the homeless or donating to save threatened animals from extinction.
Or the world from extinction, come to that. Not that she was ever in possession of much ‘disposable income’, and Barry sure as heck wasn’t, although he got half-priced leftovers from the cabinet at Wise Weta.
But Ethan was paying. That was just fine with her.
She ordered the vegetarian big breakfast and Ethan ordered the standard big breakfast with extra eggs and toast.
She chose tea; he ordered espresso.
As they settled into their seats, at a table by the window, she checked her phone. Harry had texted to say she wasn’t feeling great, felt a bit like the flu, and she was going to stay home all day. Sage texted her back to say there were painkillers in the bathroom if she needed them.
She put her phone in her bag, picked up the magazine on offer, and looked over the top of the pages at Ethan as he flipped through the morning paper.
He seemed genuinely engrossed in the news.
“I thought you’d have read the news online,” she commented finally. She gestured to the paper. “That’s old news now. Hours old.”
“I never read much online. It’s all headlines and advertising and clickbait. It drives me nuts.” He gave the newspaper a flick. “And it’s the reading of the paper I like. It reminds me of the olden days.” He turned the page.
“There is something tactile about holding pages,” she agreed. Not that she felt any great enthusiasm for the magazine in her hand. It was glossy, expensive, and designed to make you feel worse about yourself than you already did.
Ethan turned the page as his coffee and her tea arrived, and Sage noticed she was getting curious stares. Or rather, Ethan was being looked at. But then, he stood out. He’d stand out anywhere, and he especially stood out now. She gave a quick visual flick across the other patrons. It was an affluent area of the city, with men who looked metrosexual and hipster, if hipster and metrosexual were even still things. They probably weren’t. Labelling made her cringe. In her teens she’d grown up in a world of image where money meant something, and where even those who didn’t have it were intent on proving it – like her parents – and she’d seen for herself how fake it all was. How ridiculous it all was.
She noticed there were a few Barrys of the world in the cafe, too, or maybe it was just that she noticed the Barrys of the world because that was the type she liked hanging out with. The type of man she related to. There was no bullshit around them and they cared about the big things in life.
She figured her tea had brewed sufficiently, put the magazine down and began to pour.
Ethan sipped his coffee.
Suddenly, he chuckled and turned the page.
“What was that?” Sage asked.
“It’s a headline. Exercise makes you fat.”
“Clearly it doesn’t,” she said, gesturing to him.
He followed her gaze down at his chest. His flat stomach.
“I like to work out,” he said, turning the page. “I’m very physical.”
“I gathered. All the work you’re doing on the house by yourself.”
“I like it. It’s very calming. It makes you forget all about the rubbish going on in this world.”
Their meals arrived, and when they were both plated in front of them, Ethan looked with interest at her plate. “That looks okay from here.”
She glanced at her tofu scramble, the mixed bean patties, the pair of soy sausages with a mixed grill of tomatoes, eggplant and green capsicum.
“It will be. Try some, if you like,” she offered.
He shook his head but there was no discernible screwing up of his face, which filled her with an absurd sense of pleasure. “I’m good here.”
“Maybe tomorrow morning I’ll make breakfast for you,” she suggested. “I could do my recipe for tofu scramble. It’s like scrambled eggs but without the eggs, if you get my drift.”
“I get your drift.” His mouth quirked into the most endearing smile. “And I’m game. I’ll be ready for some healthy food after the cricket.” He spread butter on his toast. Sage had requested the olive oil spread, and it was served in a little porcelain dish. As he doused tomato sauce over his sausages, he asked, “You haven’t always been vegan then?”
“I’m vegetarian,” she corrected him. “And, no, I haven’t. It’s only been over the past ten years.”
He salted his eggs and ground some pepper over that. “Any ethical reason?”
“No, it was financial,” she told him. “At least, it was to begin with. I had to look for ways to cook that were cheap and there isn’t a lot cheaper than beans and potatoes and rice and pasta. You get good pretty quickly at finding ways to cook, and it tends to be the vegetarians and the vegans who are the most innovative.”
“So you had a tough time of it then, bringing up Harry on your own?”
“It wasn’t always on my own.” Although in many ways it was. Her marriage to Harry’s dad had lasted a few years and then he went on to have two boys with his second wife. She’d maintained a civil relationship with him for Harry’s sake, and had even looked after Harry’s two step-brothers a few times so Harry could see that not everyone had to live with bitterness all their lives. Even if it was weird looking after your ex-husband’s kids from his second relationship. But then, Sage liked not being normal.
She took a sip of tea.
“Harry wasn’t tough,” she said, “so much as it was hard me studying and working and trying to be all things to everyone. A few years ago she went through a stage that drove me crazy, but that’s in the past now, and I got through it and that’s what counts. It’s all part of life, I’ve discovered. Now it’s just figuring out—”
She stopped there as Ethan reached for his coffee.
“It’s just figuring out what?” he asked.
She added sauce to her patties. “It’s just figuring out, now that Harry’s growing up, what I want to do.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t it meant to be the other way? Figuring out for Harry what she wants to do?”
Tha
t was the thing. Sage sighed as she cut into her sausage and took a bite. Harry could do whatever she chose to do. That was the world she lived in and it was her mercury-free oyster. She could do anything she chose, and if she chose to get married and have babies and be a stay-at-home mum, then she, Sage, was fine with that. After all, she’d done what she wanted to do.
Well, sort of what she wanted to.
Having ability in science and loving it weren’t necessarily the same thing, and she was never going to use her doctorate, except to sign herself Dr Sage Lockwood to add kudos to her environmental work. People took notice if something came from a Dr Lockwood, not to mention it left her with perverse pleasure. Dick Alborough, for example, a big name in wildlife preservation circles, also signed himself Doctor; he’d completed a doctorate on eighteenth-century French literature. There was a certain smugness she felt over that, that she was the one with the science degrees, and she didn’t have a lot else to feel smug about at times.
And working in childcare, much as she loved the work and loved chatting to the parents or the nannies, was just something she did. It paid the bills, although barely. She’d fallen into that because she’d relied on it so much. Children were important. With all the guilt complexes mothers faced in contemporary life, it was important to make them feel supported and encouraged.
“You look pretty deep in thought,” Ethan commented.
She noted he was devouring his breakfast with an enthusiastic appetite. It would cost a fortune to feed him.
“Oh, I’m just pondering stuff.” She took a sip of her tea, eyed up Ethan’s coffee and wished she’d gone for that.
“Nothing wrong with pondering,” he agreed. “I spent a lot of time pondering how to go about working on Robyn’s house and it served me well.”
He glanced at his watch, and frowned.
She said, “Something wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nope. It’s just that it’s only ten o’clock and this has the potential to be a very long day. This whole ‘looking after the kids’ thing.”
Sage said, “Well, at least Robyn and Jack will be having a good time, and they won’t be worrying.”
“True, that,” Ethan said as his phone vibrated.