by Hill, Joanne
She patted her bag. “I’ve got a thermos of soup for Sage’s girl and some scones she can heat up in the microwave.”
Ten minutes later they were driving over the harbour bridge with Mrs Parker seated between Sage and Ethan. Ethan was grateful for that. Sage had sprayed something on her body that was going to torment him if he had to sit any closer to her. Mrs Parker had her tablet and held it up, snapping photographs of the harbour.
“So you don’t get out that much, huh?” Ethan commented.
“I get out when I need to get out. I prefer to stay on the correct side of the harbour bridge. I don’t much care for this side.” They reached the top of the bridge, with glorious views of the harbour and the Auckland city skyline to their left, and as they headed down, she gave a loud snort. “Aucklanders.”
“We’re all Aucklanders,” Sage told her. “We all live in Auckland. You live in Auckland.”
“I live on the North Shore,” Mrs Parker retorted. “Born, raised and one day retired.”
“But Mrs Parker?” Sage’s voice was soft, as if she were talking to a child. “The North Shore is part of Auckland.”
“I’m no Aucklander.”
“Yes, you are. It’s all one city now, one big super city. Back in 2011, all the separate councils amalgamated to make one big one. Remember?”
“Let it go,” Ethan said. He’d heard this point of view before. No one was ever going to win this.
“But she’s an Aucklander, Ethan. Even though there’s a harbour separating us, there is also a bridge joining us, and the North Shore is in Auckland. She pays rates to Auckland Council.”
Mrs Parker made a sound like a growl and Ethan said, “Let it go, Sage.” He focused on slowing down behind a haulage truck. “It’s like Manchester U and Manchester City.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“Oh, I know what that means,” Mrs Parker said, “And I will not dignify it with a comment. How much longer to your place?”
“Half an hour,” Sage said.
“McDonald’s,” Ruby yelled at the sight of a red building that bore a faint resemblance to the hamburger place.
Ethan gripped the steering wheel tighter and hoped Robyn and Jack were having some fun over there in Melbourne.
Because he doubted he was going to anytime soon.
They stopped off at the local shopping centre, and Sage ran into the pharmacy to stock up on supplies for Harriet. At their house, Ethan parked the truck outside. Hard to believe it had only been six hours since they’d left here. It felt like twenty-four. Mrs Parker surveyed her surroundings as they climbed out.
“That’s my place,” Sage told her, gesturing to the house opposite. “I’ll go and see if Harry’s okay.”
“Leaving me with the Taylor-Fletcher offspring, I see,” Ethan observed, as Ruby, James and Eric took off yelling around the small front yard with Mrs Parker in pursuit. It was safe, he noted. Timber was stashed neatly in the carport and covered with a tarpaulin. Everything else, from tools to saws, was inside.
He’d have to make sure it was all safe.
“You signed up for it,” Sage reminded him unnecessarily. “Anyhow. I won’t be long. I’ll come over as soon as I know Harry’s okay.”
She had the soup flask in her hand as well as the bag with supplies for Harry.
He watched her a moment and admiration settled deeply inside him. Respect, too, he realized, and he wasn’t someone who automatically respected people. Just the way he was, he figured.
“You know,” he said, “you are a good mother. Harry really is lucky to have you looking out for her.”
Sage stared at him and for a moment he couldn’t move as their gazes held, as her grey-green eyes looked straight at him. Straight through him. Held even longer.
“Thanks.” She cleared her throat, looked back towards her house. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
He watched her as she went around the fence to her section, glanced briefly over at him, then walked up the steps to her back door, unlocked it, and stepped inside.
The door shut and he realized he’d been holding his breath.
“Inconvenient,” he muttered as he turned around, momentarily disoriented. Mrs Parker stalked towards him.
“I’ve had the guided tour of the yard.” She narrowed her eyes. “I can see this was a good little place for Robyn to raise the twins on her own.” She checked out the rotting timber around the windows, peeling paint, and rusting downpipes. Ethan hadn’t made a start on the outdoors yet. She added, “She had neighbours nearby, a back section so it’s off the road, and all fenced for safety. Not a lot of room around the place, but enough. I hear the landlord gave her a good deal since he was planning to flick it off.” She nodded in approval.
Ethan stared critically at it. He hadn’t thought of the place in that way, but then, why would he? He’d never had children and wasn’t likely to.
“So,” Mrs Parker said. “How about giving me the guided tour of the inside?”
Ruby and James were visibly excited over seeing their old house, and Ethan led them up to the front steps, opened the door, and stood back.
They rushed in.
“Wait a minute,” he yelled.
He wasn’t thinking.
“Stay here,” he ordered. “I need to go and make sure you guys can’t hurt yourselves with all the equipment I’ve got lying around.”
He prowled through the rooms, unplugged electrical tools, banged nail boxes down, and came back.
“Okay, you can go and look but don’t touch anything. Not a thing. You got that? Off you go.”
Eric followed the twins. They stopped suddenly in the lounge and looked around.
“What did you do?” James accused.
Ethan sighed heavily as Mrs Parker slid her hand admiringly over a gib-stopped wall. When she lived here, Robyn had decorated it in some crazy colour scheme. Now it was bare walls with patches of white plaster.
“Good work,” Mrs Parker commented with approval. “Are the walls all going to be insulated?”
“Yep. And in the ceiling and underneath. A heat pump’s going against the back wall.”
“Good.” She walked in, poked her foot at the bare floorboards. Sanding them was coming up soon, and he was looking forward to it. Looking forward to the physical graft, even the sheer monotony of it.
“Are the boards matai?” Mrs Parker asked.
“They are.” He’d been stoked to realize the quality of the boards. “I figured I’d find some cheap 1970s flooring under the carpet, but it was this. A few need replacing, but otherwise they’re in good condition.”
He and Mrs Parker both jumped as Ruby suddenly screamed, and Mrs Parker placed her hand across her chest.
From the other end of the house, Ruby yelled, “My room. My room.”
Mrs Parker arched her eyebrows. “What happened to her room?”
Ethan swallowed, looking longingly out the front door to where maturity no doubt reigned in the form of a sick teenage girl and a doting mother. “I stripped off the purple and blue wallpaper.”
Sobs could be heard now, and Ethan looked plaintively at Mrs Parker. “She hates me, you know.”
“Yes.” Mrs Parker was already heading towards the bedroom, digging in her bag for whatever food was in there to placate the disconsolate five-year-old. “I know.”
Harriet lay asleep in her bed. Rumpled covers and a hot forehead were evidence of a fever. She had never been one to fake a sick day. If she was sick, she was really sick, and she had never felt the need to pretend otherwise.
Harry opened her eyes slowly as Sage set the painkillers and bottle of water on the bedside table.
“You look really sick. What happened?” Sage sat on the bed.
“I dunno. Just some stupid virus.” Harry’s voice was low. “It’s going around school.”
“You’re back on Monday. Will you need an extension on any assignments?”
Harry managed a weak grin. “No. I’m ahead of s
chedule.” She struggled up and reached for the water, and gulped some down. “It’s funny how that’s the first thing you asked.”
It was, Sage realized. Probably because she hadn’t given a darn at school about work, and later she wished she had. It had taken leaving school and getting out of that competitive system of egos and social climbing to figure out she actually liked study and could use her brain. Besides, she’d been having too much fun getting pregnant with Harriet.
And not a single moment of regret.
“Is Mr McGraw over there?” Harriet eyed up the painkillers and Sage popped them out of the packet, and handed them to her. When she’d swallowed them down, Harry lay back and closed her eyes wearily.
Sage cleared her throat. Mr McGraw.
“He is. He and Jack’s housekeeper, Mrs Parker. This is her soup.” She gestured to the flask. “It’s really good. Do you want some now?”
Harry shook her head. “Not just yet, but I might try some later.”
“I’ll leave it here for you.” Sage picked up the flask and examined it. “I haven’t seen one of these in years. I always used to carry one around with me when I went protesting. Nothing like hot coffee on tap when you’re staging an all-night protest in a forest in the middle of winter.”
“Hmm,” Harry murmured, but her eyes had closed again. She rolled over, shivering as she pulled the bedclothes tighter around her, and murmured, “Thanks, Mum.”
“My pleasure,” Sage said, as she kissed Harry’s heated forehead, and watched her fall asleep.
When Sage went back over to Ethan’s house, she was greeted with three petulant children sitting on the couch in the lounge.
Mrs Parker was making tea in the kitchen, and Ethan was on his phone as he sat opposite the children, his feet on Robyn’s old coffee table, glaring at them.
“Sage,” Ruby yelled, running over and wrapping her arms around her waist. “That man took everything out of my bedroom.” She sobbed. “It’s not the same. I hate that man. I want mummy.”
Sage patted Ruby’s head and raised her eyebrows at Ethan.
“I’ve got to go, Em,” he said into the phone. “I’ll let you know if we decide to come out. Thanks for the invite.”
He ended the call and rubbed his hands wearily down his face.
Mrs Parker came in, handed him a cup and said, “So what now, McGraw?”
Sage got down to the floor, sat cross-legged and pulled Ruby onto her lap. “Is there another plan?”
“No plans. Nothing. I’m done. But Emily said we can go to her place and hang out.”
“That man,” Ruby began to sob, and Sage pulled her tighter.
Ethan looked heavenward. “I should never have agreed to this. In fact, I didn’t agree. It was thrust on me.”
That was true, Sage agreed. She checked her wristwatch. The second hand continued to move with painful slowness.
“How’s Harry?” Ethan asked.
“She’s okay but she’s pretty sick. She’s gone back to sleep for now. She’s feverish, too.” Sage absently chewed her thumb nail. She’d never seen Harry this sick; she was like her. They rarely succumbed to anything going around. If she was still like this tomorrow, she’d take her to the doctor—
“Okay,” Ethan announced.
Sage looked up at him. “What’s okay?”
“You. You stay and look after Harry. She needs you. I’ll be alright with the offspring.”
A harrumph sounded from Mrs Parker.
“What?” Ethan protested, raising his shoulders. “Why do you women seem to think it’s impossible that I can look after these children without your interfering?”
“Because it’s true.” Mrs Parker looked at Sage. “Why don’t you bring your girl back to Jack’s? There’s plenty of room and you can keep an eye on her, while you’re keeping an eye on—” She jerked her thumb in Ethan’s direction.
Sage waited for his retort, but he seemed to be considering it. From his spot on the couch, he looked at Sage on the floor. “What do you think? Not that you need to keep an eye on me.”
Mrs Parker snorted.
Sage thought of the spare room at Robyn and Jack’s. It had an en suite. It was luxury. And she was torn between Robyn’s kids and her own Harry. Harry was ill, but Sage had promised Robyn. And you didn’t mess around when you were looking after someone else’s children. She watched as James began to pick a fight with Ruby. Children were the most precious thing in the world. And besides, there was no way Ethan was going to last one day, let alone two.
There was, she realized, nothing to even think about.
“I feel,” she said, “that this could work.”
They devised a plan. Mrs Parker took the children for a walk down to the park, Ethan said he could do with half an hour to finish up a job in the house, and next door Sage packed Harry a bag and waited for her to wake up.
While she waited, she pulled the sheets off her own bed and stuffed them in the washing machine for a quick wash. She dried off the cups on the bench and put them in the cupboard. She checked her emails, liked Wise Weta’s latest Facebook post, and when that was done, she glanced at her phone and felt a thud of guilt. She should phone Barry. He was working an extra shift and she’d spoken to him a few days ago, but it felt wrong to be hanging out with Ethan and not let Barry know.
Though, she realized, there were plenty of times Barry didn’t tell her anything. But she put that down to his age. Not that they were tied at the hip. Far from it. He still hung out with the kids – women and men, she rephrased – he’d gone to high school with. She composed a text asking him to call her when he had a moment, and minutes later it rang.
“Hey, Sage?” he said.
“Hi Barry. How are you? I never expected to hear back so soon.”
I’m on my break out the back. You got me at a good time.”
She could picture him out the back of the café in the tiny courtyard. She’d only been out there once, but they grew herbs in boxes and pots, and there were wooden benches. “Are you busy?” she asked.
“Full on. Some game on at Eden Park this afternoon so we’re gonna be flat out before and after.” She heard him gulp noisily. Probably his soy latte. She could go a soy latte right now.
“Listen, Barry? I just wanted to let you know that Harriet isn’t too good at the moment. She’s come down with some virus or something, and I promised Robyn I’d look after her children at her place, so we’re both going over there. Me and Harry.”
He gulped some more. “Cool. All good. I was thinking of an early night when I get off my shift. What are you doing Sunday? There’s a new folk band playing in a club on K Road.”
“Sure. Sunday night would be good.” She might need folk music after a day with Ethan. She’d seen the music he liked in the glove box of his truck, and it was not her thing at all. Not that she’d been snooping in the glove box. Well, actually she had, but she’d legitimately been looking for a tissue and had found a burger joint serviette, and not a lot else. She’d dreaded finding something girly, or a love letter, which was daft because he was a thirty something year old man, and if he had some girlfriend he hadn’t admitted to, it was none of her business. None at all.
Barry said, “I gotta go, Sage.” She heard the feverish gulping followed by a sigh of pleasure.
“Okay. Have a good rest of the day, and text me about the concert.”
“Cool, babe.”
She ended the call, and felt strangely dissatisfied. Why was she dissatisfied? She and Barry got on so well. In fact, a couple of the Save the Kauri group were around her age and were quite jealous of the fact she’d gotten a younger man. Ten years was a fairly big gap – not that it worried her, and it didn’t worry Barry. Age didn’t matter when you were in tune – in sync – and she and Barry were definitely in sync over a lot of things.
So what was with this odd jitteriness?
She stared miserably out the window towards Ethan’s house.
She scowled. Over there was Ethan
, who had told Sage she was a great mother, not just once but three times, and had meant it. Ethan who had talked to Harry, and laughed with her, had shown patience, and concern. Ethan who had volunteered to help out his best friend and look after the children, even though he was so clearly out of his depth doing it.
That Ethan she thought about far too much.
The washing machine stopped and she went to pull out the clothes. She quickly hung them on the spare clothesline she’d strung up under the back porch.
As she pegged the last sheet, she stopped, as a realization hit her.
Barry hadn’t even asked how she was.
Quarter of an hour later, Harry woke up and roused herself enough to go the bathroom, brush her teeth and stagger out to Ethan’s truck, leaning on Sage.
“Poor kid,” Ethan murmured. Sage helped Harry into the back seat with the twins buckled up either side of her. She closed her eyes while they chattered non-stop about how their house was ruined. Sage noted Eric was engrossed in Mrs Parker’s tablet, while Mrs P glared across the Auckland streets as they headed a different route across town to the Harbour Bridge.
“You okay, Harry?” Sage asked.
“I’m think I’m okay,” Harry murmured.
“I’m sure you just need to sleep it off,” Sage said, but she was worried. If it was still there tomorrow, she’d take her to the doctor. Definitely. Just in case.
“Do you get sick, McGraw?” Mrs Parker prodded Ethan.
He shook his head. “Nope. The odd bout of man flu, but that’s about it.”
“I see,” Mrs Parker said.
“It’s a legit thing,” Ethan protested. “And when it gets me, it gets me good.”
“I bet it does.” Mrs Parker appeared to be giving Ethan a good once-over. “You don’t look the type to give in to nature. Not like some men I could name.”
“You mean Jack, right?” Ethan said.
Mrs Parker suddenly stiffened. “I mean men in general.”
His voice was suddenly laced with mirth. “No, you don’t.” They were heading back over the bridge now, and the children were competing over who could count the most boats at the marina. “I believe you’re referring to Mister Parker. Is he prone to nature’s ailments then?”