by Dick, Amanda
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’ll make you one of my special coffees.”
He sank back into the counter behind him and watched her work, quickly and quietly. Conversation seemed to resume in the living room, and he felt like screaming. He just wanted to forget – just long enough so he could sleep, just long enough so he could escape. Was that too much to ask?
“Remember that time Danny was convinced there was a possum in the roof?” She threw him a sidelong glance before she turned her attention to filling the waiting cups with coffee powder and sugar. “He climbed up through the man-hole – Finn boosted him up because we couldn’t find a ladder. Remember?”
“He got me to pass him up the broom.” Good times. He could talk about good times. It helped to chase away the memories.
Kate turned around, stifling a giggle. “Then Finn followed him with the cricket bat and that was it – no sleep for anyone till they found the bloody thing.”
“And find the bloody thing, we did.” Finn leaned against the breakfast bar behind them. “I’d forgotten about that. I couldn’t see a damn thing up there, but he swore he could. He chased that thing around like a lunatic - he kept saying it was possessed by demons. I’ll never forget him lashing out and the bloody broom going straight through the ceiling!”
“I don’t think Nina and Jim were too chuffed,” Kate giggled. “He had to pay to get it fixed.”
Finn strolled around the breakfast bar into the kitchen, jumping up to sit on the kitchen counter next to Max. Gavin and Lacey joined in as they raced through the memories, trying to recall what had started the whole possum escapade that night.
These were the times when Max wanted to talk about Danny. That was the only way to keep the darker thoughts at bay. When he thought of Danny like this, he could push the nightmares aside. He could concentrate on Danny’s child-like sense of humour and his love of playing pranks and how much he adored Kate and the Monaro. He could see his keen competitive sense and the stupid dance he did when he won a game of cards, or a drinking game – or any kind of game.
All of these memories pushed the anger and the pain deep down inside, where he wanted to keep it. He tried to ignore it, because sometimes, when he was at his lowest, all he could think about was how unfair life was. He didn’t deserve to see the inside of his friend’s head splattered all over the wall. Kate didn’t deserve to lose the man she had planned to spend the rest of her life with. Nina and Jim didn’t deserve to lose their only child. None of them deserved to lose their friend.
Kate stirred milk into their coffee. She was smiling and it warmed his shattered heart to see it. He wondered if she still kept Danny’s old cellphone in her bedside drawer – did she still call it to hear his voice on the answerphone message? Those long weeks and then months after Danny died, he had moved in with her to make sure she was okay. What she didn’t know – what none of them knew – was that he hadn’t done it purely for her. He had also done it for himself. As much as he had hated being in that house, he was more frightened of being alone. Even he was capable of seeing the irony.
“Max?”
He blinked. “Sorry - what?”
“Let’s go through to the living room and sit down,” Gavin was saying, helping Kate with the coffee mugs.
Max followed them, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. Suddenly, that was more difficult. Perhaps he would get a good sleep tonight after all. Maybe he had already had enough to usher in oblivion.
Gavin put the coffee cups down on the table and threw himself onto one sofa, Lacey joining him. Finn took the armchair this time, and Kate sat down on the rug with her coffee, leaving Max to fall into the other sofa. He leaned forward to rub his face wearily. He was so tired of all of this. Part of him wanted to sleep. Part of him was afraid to close his eyes. Visibly waning now, he sat up and tried to focus.
“Hey – how you doin’ over there?” Finn asked.
“Good…’m good.”
Conversation seemed to pick up around him, ebbing and flowing over and through him like the tides. Someone laughed. More voices joined in. A chorus of noise surrounded him but he couldn’t follow the conversation. He wasn’t sure he even cared anymore. They seemed happy, that was the main thing. The happier they were, the more likely they would leave him in peace.
It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open and the space between blinks got shorter and shorter. He glanced over at Finn, having great difficulty keeping him in focus, his face bobbing in front of him uncertainly, fuzzy around the edges.
“Max?”
He shook himself out of the darkness he felt himself leaning into, his eyes snapping open. “Yeah? ‘M okay,” he mumbled.
He blinked as Finn’s face disappeared altogether and he felt himself falling. Then, blessed darkness.
Chapter Ten
Lacey had been the first to head off to bed. They had decided to leave Max where he was. He had fallen asleep a little over an hour ago and was sleeping fairly peacefully, if the light snoring was any indication.
“There was no point talking to him tonight,” Finn said. “He wouldn’t have remembered in the morning, not in the state he’s in. I think the best thing to do is try it tomorrow, see if we can find out what’s going on.”
“I agree. Give him the morning for the hangover to wear off,” Gavin said, gathering up the empty coffee mugs and taking them into the kitchen.
“It might be a total waste of time,” Finn sat back in the armchair. “You realise that?”
“Well, yeah, but what are the alternatives? Watch him drink himself into a coma every night?”
“We have to try something,” Kate said. “We can’t just let him go on like this. It’s bad enough he’s not returning phone calls or texts anymore.”
Max looked peaceful, but she couldn’t help but wonder how long that would last. The last time she saw him had been at her birthday, in November. They had made a weekend of it, and everyone had crashed overnight at Gavin and Lacey’s. Max had woken them up in the middle of the night, screaming. It wasn’t the first time. He had clammed up when they asked him, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out.
“I’m gonna have to turn in,” Finn yawned. “How does bacon and eggs grab you for breakfast?”
“You making it?” Gavin asked.
“I’m usually the first up, aren’t I?”
“Good point. In that case, I’m in.”
“Night guys. Sleep well.” He stood up and made his way wearily out of the room, passing Gavin in the kitchen.
“G’night,” Kate smiled.
Gavin came back into the living room and sank into the sofa beside her with a heavy sigh. For some reason, she wasn’t tired. She waited a few moments to be sure Finn was out of earshot before turning to him.
“Did you know about him and Kelly?”
Gavin nodded slowly.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I had no idea. He said it happened a month ago.”
“He told me not to. Why are you giving me that look?”
“What look?”
“The pound-of-shit look.”
“I’m not giving you the pound-of-shit look!”
“You most definitely are giving me the pound-of-shit look. What’d I do?”
She huffed out a frustrated breath and sank back into the sofa. “I just wish someone had told me, that’s all. I feel like an idiot now. I’m probably the only one who didn’t know!”
Gavin shifted in his seat. “He said he wanted to tell you himself.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know – why are you asking me? Why don’t you ask him?” The amusement in his voice annoyed her. This was why she should have asked Lacey. She reached for the woollen blanket folded up neatly on the arm of the sofa next to her, pulling it into her lap and picking at the fringe.
“I know about what happened between you guys at New Years.”
Speechless, she stopped picking at the fringe and just held
it between her fingers instead.
“I don’t know where the hell I was, but apparently I missed the whole thing.”
In spite of herself, she smiled. “You were comatose on the floor in the living room, if I remember rightly. Besides, you didn’t miss much.”
“Ah. Yes, that does sound like me.” He chuckled. “And apparently, I missed quite a lot. Wanna fill me in?”
She sighed, leaning back onto the cushions and staring at the ceiling.
“We were drunk,” she said after a few moments. “That was all it was. It was just a… momentary lapse of reason.”
“You sure about that? You know that old saying – alcohol goes in, truth comes out.”
Her brain hurt just thinking about the implications.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.” She sighed, glancing over at him briefly. “I think my radar’s all screwed up – probably from lack of use.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing – it’s nothing. Never mind – just the ravings of a madwoman. It’s been a long day.”
She wished the ground would swallow her up and remove her from the awkwardness of this conversation.
“Look, I don’t want to step out of line here, but, do you want to know what I think?” he said gently.
Not again. Still, she found herself nodding, as her heart thumped mercilessly against her ribcage.
“Maybe what happened at New Years was a sign. Maybe you’re ready to move on? And if you are, you shouldn’t feel guilty about that. And personally, I think that Finn would be a safer bet than some stranger. You know him. He knew Danny, he knows what you’ve been through. You’re already close – it almost makes sense, when you think about it.”
Kate was trembling and she knew it wasn’t from the cold.
“Finn loved Danny as much as you did. He’d never do anything to hurt you. But you probably know that already.”
Her throat closed up and tears stung her eyes.
“It doesn’t mean you’re going to forget him. It just means you’re ready to move on with your life.”
“As if I’d ever forget him.” She bit her lip to keep from crying. “You make it sound simple.”
“I know it’s not simple. But it might just be easier than you thought. Could be that, rather than easing into the pool slowly, it might be better to just close your eyes and jump.”
“Why do guys always make things sound so straightforward? It’s just black or white for you, isn’t it? No grey.”
“Lace says I shouldn’t wear grey. Washes me out or some bloody thing.” He winked. “If you wanted a deep and meaningful, you should’ve talked to Lace about this shit. I don’t do deep and meaningful. I do shallow and meaningless. Apparently I’m pretty good at it, too.”
She sniffed. “You’re an honorary chick and you know it.”
“I’m not sure quite what to do with that. Should I be worried?”
She shook her head, smiling. If only it was as easy to talk to Finn as it was to talk to Gavin. It used to be, only since New Years, everything was a bit weird. Things that should have been innocent, suddenly had a shadow behind them. Everything seemed to be a double entendre. It made things awkward.
“I don’t even know how he feels about… y’know.” She turned serious once more, studying the blanket in her lap with renewed vigour.
“Yeah you do.”
She didn’t reply, but she supposed the fire that exploded on her cheeks said what she couldn’t. She glanced over at Max, sprawled haphazardly on the other sofa. His longer hair and the gentle light emitting from the room’s only lamp made him look so much younger than his twenty-eight years. Sleep melted the worry lines off his face and smoothed out his features, as he snored softly to himself in the quiet room.
“I’m worried about him,” she said. “What do you think’s going on?”
Gavin regarded Max’s prone body carefully. “I have no idea. Wouldn’t be so bad if he’d talk to us, then maybe we’d have some kind of clue. He seems pretty keen to keep us at arm’s length lately, though.”
“That’s what scares me the most. He just seems like he’s slipping away. I miss him.”
She stared at him, sleeping soundly. If only it was possible to draw all the pain out of him while he slept, to have him wake up with no memory of the past three years. She had often wished that for herself, too.
“Do you think he’ll be alright, sleeping there tonight?” she asked.
Gavin appraised the situation for a split second.
“Well, I’m not carrying his lanky, drunken ass to bed, so yeah – I vote we leave him there.” He turned to smile at her reassuringly, lightening the mood. “He’ll be fine. He just needs to sleep. Speaking of which, I’m going to bed too. I have a hot chick waiting for me – no offence.” He winked, getting up slowly and stretching.
“None taken.” She followed his lead, folding up the blanket and laying it over the arm of the sofa. “Goodnight. And thanks.” She reached up to give him a hug.
“Goodnight, and you’re welcome.”
She watched him walk away, then turned back to Max. He looked so relaxed. She hadn’t seen him look like that for so long. She reached behind her for the blanket she had just folded, opening it out again and draping it over him carefully. Switching the lamp off, she used the moonlight to help her navigate her way through the darkness toward her room.
Gavin’s words came back to her. She could see his point – the fact that Finn and Danny were friends was a good thing. It was also one of the reasons she was reluctant to face the attraction head-on. Just when she thought her life couldn’t get any more complicated. She sounded like some kind of dopey teenager, not a mature woman of twenty-seven. She stopped at the door to her room and leaned on the doorframe for a moment.
She could still see Danny, spread out on the bed, fast asleep. She could almost see herself sidling up to him, arranging herself beside him until the movement nudged him into curling himself around her in his sleep. His arm would creep over her stomach, settling into the hollow of her waist. The feeling of warmth and familiarity was so real that it was as if it had just happened yesterday.
Chapter Eleven
Finn was needled out of a peaceful sleep with a sharp jab. He squinted into the light coming from the lamp beside his bed.
“What?” he mumbled sleepily, rolling away from it.
Then he heard it. A noise – a moan. Something.
He rolled over again, sitting bolt upright. Kate was kneeling by the side of his bed, chewing on her bottom lip.
“It’s Max,” she said, wide-eyed. “He’s having a nightmare. He won’t wake up – I tried. I don’t know what to do.”
“It’s okay,” He pushed the covers back and swiped his hand across his eyes. “I’m coming.”
He followed the lamp light to the living room, Kate right behind him. Max was exactly where they had left him, on the sofa. A blanket was in a heap on the floor beside him and he was bathed in sweat. His face was pale and pinched, his eyes clamped shut and his mouth working silently. He looked far from the peaceful Max they had left sleeping only a few short hours before. His heart sank. Not again.
Kneeling down beside him, he shook his shoulder gently. “Max. Wake up.”
Max groaned again, but didn’t open his eyes. Finn shook him again, firmly this time, and Max threw his arm out wide, almost collecting the side of Finn’s face in the process. Kate’s silent desperation mirrored his own. Max cried out – a strangled yelp that seemed to cut through the night and grate on his last nerve.
Finn took hold of him by the shoulders and shook him roughly. Suddenly Max’s eyes flew open and he sucked in a short, sharp breath.
“It’s okay, you’re alright – it was just a nightmare,” Kate said quickly.
Max blinked rapidly, pushing himself up onto his elbows and taking a few ragged breaths.
“You okay?” Finn asked.
The fear in Max’s eyes sent his stomach in
to freefall.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah…’m fine.” He cleared his throat and sniffed, clearly still struggling with cobwebs the nightmare had left behind.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Kate asked tentatively.
“No.”
Finn knelt on the floor beside the sofa. He shared a worried glance with Kate, before turning his attention back to Max.
“Come on mate, talk to us. It might help?”
He had asked this a hundred times or more, but Max never took him up on it. This time was no different.
Max shook his head again, more quickly this time. “No. I’m fine.”
He cleared his throat again and pushed himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the sofa. He looked exhausted – and traumatised. Finn opened his mouth to speak but Max shut him down with a look.
Getting the message loud and clear, Finn got to his feet slowly, muttering “Okay.”
He hated seeing Max like this. It was getting worse, not better. He wondered if the nightmares were year-round now, not just around the anniversary of Danny’s death. Was that why Max had withdrawn from them all as he had over the past few months? Maybe he was suffocating under the weight of what happened? How would they know one way or the other, if he didn’t talk to them? Whatever he tried to do to ease this burden, it didn’t seem to make any difference. It was never enough.
“Coffee?” he said, to no one in particular.
“Yeah, thanks.” Kate smiled at him, a little ragged around the edges, but at least she was staying.
He was grateful. He didn’t feel so helpless when she was around. Max just nodded, hanging his head as he held a violently shaking hand out in front of him. Slowly clenching it into a fist, he withdrew it.
Kate was asleep on the couch, one hand hidden beneath the pillow, the other curled up under her chin. Her long auburn hair was buried underneath her, leaving a halo of dark gold around her face as she slept. She was coiled into the foetal position, covered with a blanket Finn had just placed over her. He was grateful that at least someone had managed to get some sleep tonight. She had valiantly fought it to the bitter end though, finally succumbing about half an hour earlier.