by Shona Husk
She shook her head. ‘You flit about and call nowhere home.’
He just smiled. She wanted him to put down roots—get a real job, marry and produce grandchildren. If only she knew how close she’d come to getting one. ‘I like travelling.’
She sighed. ‘We worry about you.’
‘I’m fine.’ He needed another couple of painkillers but he was fine.
‘Lisa is worried. Says you still haven’t talked to her—’
‘Mum, I didn’t come here to talk about my ex.’
‘She’s not your ex if you haven’t moved out. There’s a perfectly good home waiting for you.’
‘I’m not quitting the band.’ He’d told his mother about Lisa’s ultimatum and his mother hadn’t seen the problem.
‘She knows that now.’ His mother gave him a little smile. ‘You two need to talk. You were so perfect together.’
Dan nodded as though agreeing. He didn’t like to argue with his mother. ‘Yeah, I do need to see her.’
‘Why don’t you stay for dinner, she’s coming over. It will be like old times. It will be lovely. I have a roast lamb in the oven already.’
A free feed. He hadn’t really eaten all day. He’d slept through breakfast and had felt too ill to eat lunch. Could he get through dinner without losing his temper?
‘I don’t know, Mum. I kinda need to talk to her in private.’
‘Oh.’ The smile vanished.
Her disappointment was a knife in the chest. He needed to patch this up and change the topic before the knife went deeper. ‘We have some things to work out. It’s not as simple as me moving back in.’
His mother turned her head as footsteps thumped on the deck. Must be a drinks break in the game.
‘Come round wondering where your money is?’ His father didn’t dance around the point, and while Dan had come around for that reason he wasn’t going to fall into that bear trap.
‘Money?’ His bank account was in double figures, but there was no way he was going to let on how desperate he was. ‘Did you stop the stipend?’
His father gave him a steely glare and sipped his beer. ‘There will be no more stipend until you stop this nonsense. I’ve decided that it will go toward a house deposit for you and Lisa.’
Right, that was going to be a problem. ‘And what if Lisa and I don’t work out our differences?’
His father just took another drink of his beer and stared at him.
‘I might get a new girlfriend.’
‘Oh, not that girl in the band.’ His mother shook her head. ‘Lisa always worried about that scrubber.’
‘Gemma isn’t a scrubber, and there never has been anything going on and never will be. She’s gay.’ Did everyone think he was a cheating man whore? Seriously? Never, not once, had he cheated on Lisa. He was beginning to wish he had. If he was going to be made to feel bad he should at least have something to feel guilty about—and have enjoyed himself in the process. His afternoon with Indigo had been most enjoyable.
His father coughed and his mother turned red.
As he stood there, squinting behind his sunglasses and realising he was not going to get any money out of his father, it occurred to him that Lisa’s pregnancy had never been mentioned. Not once.
Was he misremembering? How many times had he seen his parents over the last six months? Not many … surely Lisa would’ve told them. That would’ve been leverage his father wouldn’t have hesitated to use. His chest tightened as he imagined the vice closing. It did nothing to ease his hangover or settle his stomach.
Mike’s questions became sharper and harder to dislodge.
No money meant he really needed his things from Lisa’s place. Mike was right about one thing; he didn’t need that stuff, which meant that he could sell it all. A quick cash injection was exactly what he needed.
‘That money will go into an account, same as it did for your sisters. When you get yourself sorted, it’s yours.’ His father turned away, obviously timing the drinks break and not wanting to miss a single ball.
‘You mean quit the band?’ Dan shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘We’ve just recorded the second album. It could take off.’
‘And it may not. What are you going to be doing in ten years, Daniel? Twenty years? You’ll have no experience and you’ll be unemployable.’ His father shook his head. ‘I thought when you moved in with Lisa, you were going to get it together.’
‘Lisa and I had been having problems for a while.’
‘Because you’re never there.’ His mother chimed in.
‘I think that there are plenty of fly in/fly out workers and military families who would disagree with that.’ But then, those people supported each other. They were in it together. No one was in his corner. Not even his family.
‘You aren’t working on the mines and you’re far too selfish to serve your country.’ His father pointed at him. ‘Like I said. No stipend until you get your life together.’
‘Define together.’ It was never a good idea to argue with a lawyer, but Dan couldn’t help it. Arguing was what he did best. He’d learned from an early age that tantrums didn’t work, nor did raising his voice, but demanding logic, oh yeah—that worked right up until there was no logical reason for them to demand he act a certain way.
His mother sighed.
His father’s stare hardened. ‘When you no longer need the stipend.’
‘Let me get this right. I don’t get the stipend until I don’t need the stipend. And how am I supposed to prove I don’t need it? Bank statements? Affidavit? What evidence would you like?’
‘Don’t get smart with me.’
‘Or what, you’ll ground me? Like that ever worked. I snuck out the window more times than I can count.’ Usually to go out with Ripley who had lived up the street. Until Dan’s expulsion for smoking weed instead of going to gym, they had gone to the same exclusive, boys-only school. They had remained friends, even though these days they were often in different states or different countries. He was looking forward to catching up with his partner in crime next week.
However, there had been that time both sets of parents had realised something was up and the riot act had been read. Several times.
They had both been slightly underage and in possession of fake IDs that had cost a lot—Dan had bought them as he had more money. In hindsight they had been careless, and a little drunk. That had been a lesson in not getting caught.
‘You are old enough to make your own decisions—’
‘Well, there’s something we can agree on.’
‘But I don’t have to support them, or you. I gave you every opportunity and you threw it back at me. Get it together.’ His father went in before Dan could reply. He always had to get the last word in.
Dan resisted the urge to follow him and continue the argument. He wouldn’t make any headway with his dad.
‘You’re both too stubborn. Too alike,’ his mother said, helpfully.
Now the insults were starting. ‘I don’t think I’d be welcome at dinner.’ His stomach gave a growl and his mother looked sad. Mike didn’t have a father to argue with or a mother to disappoint. Dan immediately felt bad for pushing his away. This was his family, even if they didn’t like him. ‘Let’s make it another weekend?’
He put his arms around her. She had filled out while he’d been away. He didn’t see her as often as he should. ‘I love you, Mum.’
‘I love you too. I worry.’ She gave him a squeeze. ‘We both do.’
‘I land on my feet.’ He always had.
She drew back. ‘Really? Are you all right?’
‘Yes.’ He lied. ‘And I’m going to talk to Lisa. Now that the summer festivals are over and the album is done, I have the time to get to the bottom of it.’
She gave his arm a squeeze. ‘Good. I know you were under pressure. Come inside. I have a hundred in my purse you can have.’
A lump formed in his throat. ‘Thank you.’
‘I wish you’d stay for d
inner. Lisa is coming and it would be nice.’
Ha, he should’ve known his mother was trying to get them back together.
‘She part of the family now?’ More of a part than he was.
His mother gave another sigh and pulled the fifty-dollar notes from her purse. ‘She was just going to stop by to drop off my birthday present, but I asked her to stay.’
Dan winced. He’d forgotten.
She put the notes in his hand. ‘Don’t get into trouble. And don’t wait until you need money to come around.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘I need to get cleaned up and finish off dinner. Are you sure you won’t stay?’
It smelled good. Lamb and rosemary filled the house. There was no such thing as a free meal and in this case the price would be seeing Lisa. But if she was here, she wouldn’t be there. He could get his things.
‘Next time you do roast beef with all the bits I’ll be here.’
‘And butterscotch pudding.’ She remembered his favourite dessert.
‘If you had that cooking now, I would be staying.’
‘I can make it?’ She looked so hopeful.
He was a shit. ‘Don’t go to that trouble tonight, Mum. Let’s do it another night.’
His mother checked the calendar on the wall. A picture of an old winery gave way to cheese as she flipped the page and studied April. ‘How about the third Sunday in April?’
‘Sure.’ He couldn’t say no as she pencilled it in. There would be no wriggling out of that one unless he was in hospital or jail. Either would be fine if it meant avoiding Lisa.
‘Wonderful.’ His mother beamed.
Dan pulled his lips into a smile and shoved the money into his pocket. He had two weeks to make sure Lisa understood they were done. Taking his things while she wasn’t home should make it pretty clear he wasn’t moving back in.
By Sunday lunchtime Dan had the amps for sale online and he’d taken one game console and the games to the pawn shop, giving him a much-needed cash boost. He’d also sent the property manager an email telling her that he’d be in on Monday to remove his name from the lease. The direct debit for the rent had also been cancelled—he really didn’t want a negative balance.
As he cracked open a beer to celebrate, he was feeling pretty damn pleased with himself. He knew it wouldn’t last, but he’d hoped he’d be able to bask in the glow for at least a full beer, not just the first sip.
When his mobile phone rang he was very tempted to ignore it, but it was Lisa. He needed to answer it. The idea that this might be the last time that he ever had to deal with her was enough to wipe out most of the dread.
‘Hello?’ He acted as though he wasn’t sure who it was.
‘Hi …’ She sighed. ‘Are you still mad at me?’
He’d just moved out. What did she think was going on? ‘Yeah.’
‘I’m sorry. How many times do I need to say it?’
Dan closed his eyes. Forever. No, that wasn’t long enough. ‘I’ve moved out.’
‘I know. Come back.’
‘No, I’ve collected my stuff and cancelled my share of the rent. I’m handing in my key on Monday.’
Had she not even noticed his things were missing? Okay, his amps and music paraphernalia were in the spare room, but his clothes were gone from the walk-in robe they’d shared. He really should’ve accepted Mike’s offer of help, as his sedan had been stuffed to the point of exploding. She could keep the furniture and the TV they’d bought together.
She was silent so he filled the gap, spelling it out for her.
‘This is it. I’m done.’ He wanted to make it completely clear that there would be no second chances. If he was doing this in person, she’d be able to suck him under. And he was sure he’d fall for it. ‘We’re done.’
‘You can’t, Dan. We are good together. You even said so.’
He had, but that had been before she’d joined his father’s team and tried to get him to quit the band. ‘Begging doesn’t suit you.’
‘Get your head out of your ass. You have to grow up sometime.’ Her tone hardened from pleading to telling. This was the Lisa he found it easy to walk away from.
‘A grown-up chooses how they want to live and accepts the consequences. I believe I’m doing that.’ The beer was cold in his hand and bitter on his tongue. He didn’t want it anymore. ‘Perhaps that’s what you need to do. You told me to choose and I did. Enjoy.’
She swore softly. ‘Your father said he’d pay my uni debt if I got you home.’
Dan forgot how to breathe. That sounded just like his father. If logic and threats didn’t work, then money would. The cancelling of the stipend was just another step in his father’s plan. If there was one thing Dan did well, it was dig his heels in and resist authority.
‘Well, it sucks to be you.’ She wanted to ruin his life to get her uni debt paid. Was he nothing more than a giant payday?
‘You don’t get it.’
‘Yeah, I do. I know exactly how he works. He’d use the carrot of more money every time he wanted us kids to do something.’ Dan had got clever at looking like he was doing the right thing so he could keep his wallet full, but the novelty had worn off as the cost and the restrictions had grown. He was selling his soul and integrity … which didn’t leave him much else. ‘I won’t play his games and I won’t play yours.’
‘Who is she? Gemma?’
‘No one. There is no one.’ That wasn’t entirely true as there had been a few someones. And Indigo. He had a sudden urge to go back to the pub and see if he could run into her again. She knew what she wanted, and had walked out with a smile on her face. No games there.
‘Then why? Why couldn’t you choose me?’ She sounded like she was going to cry.
Dan swallowed hard. He hated it when she cried. Were they real tears? Tears because he’d broken her heart or tears because he wouldn’t do what she wanted? He shook his head, glad he couldn’t see her. She wasn’t his problem anymore.
‘Because you made me choose.’ He hung up before she could say anything else.
Then he buried the phone under cushions so he couldn’t see it or hear it.
His hand shook as he took a long drink. She could still play him, pull on his strings. Yeah, but this time he’d resisted and had refused to dance. It was a small victory but he was claiming it.
Chapter 5
‘You are coming home for my birthday, right?’ Indigo’s almost eighteen-year-old sister was close to begging.
Indigo had been expecting the request, but she didn’t want to go to Kalgoorlie and it certainly wasn’t home. Going back was more of a duty than fun. Emma would want to go out to celebrate being eighteen and able to drink, legally.
She closed her eyes. Could she afford it? She knew exactly much she had in her savings account and how much she needed to cover the operation and her time off. She wouldn’t be able to work at the gym or the bar for several weeks.
It would’ve been cheaper to go overseas but she’d heard too many horror stories. Her health and body were too important to her and her work. By the time her birthday rolled around she’d be a sexy C cup instead of a don’t-look-twice A.
Going back to Kalgoorlie wasn’t part of her plan. That would mean time off work and a train fare, unless she wanted to drive—which she didn’t.
Emma took her silence as the reluctance it was.
‘Pleeeease. I miss you. We all do.’ Emma was now officially begging. ‘We can go clubbing and hit the bars. You can catch up with everyone from school.’
There was no one she wanted to catch up with. The girls didn’t like her and the boys, well, she’d dated and dumped too many. Gossip travelled fast and when she told one guy to rack off he’d been less than impressed. Apparently he’d been miffed he hadn’t made the cut and he’d informed her she should’ve been grateful he wanted to date a slut like her. She’d only slept with one of her boyfriends at that stage, but because she’d had several boyfriends and had been the one to break up first, instead of being clingy
and desperate for attention, the boys hadn’t like it. They’d avoided her after that.
She’d been thrilled when high school was over and she could leave.
These days she was fussy and sometimes as soon as a man open his mouth she knew it wasn’t going any further than one drink. Looks weren’t everything, even if it was the first thing that caught her eye.
Now Dan, she’d quite happily see again. She shivered remembering his touch. She may have listened to nothing but Selling the Sun since Friday. Lame.
As if someone like him was ever going to look twice at her. She glanced down at her chest. That would all change …
‘I don’t know, Em.’
‘It’s a long weekend.’
‘I’ll have to see if I can get away. It’s not as though I can just not show up to work.’ The bar work was paying for her new boobs. Once they were done, a new car, or slightly less old car, was on the list. Then a holiday. She had plans for that extra money.
‘Ugh, you are so old and boring.’
‘Thanks.’ She was only six years older and didn’t think she was boring. But she was never going to find herself financially trapped like her mum. Between her and Emma was their brother. He’d joined the army and was driving trucks somewhere dangerous—anything to leave town. ‘How’s Mum and Dad?’
Emma made a noncommittal noise. ‘Same. I think he has a new girlfriend. Mum has started a new diet.’
‘She should divorce him.’ Instead their mother had stayed and their father had kept on cheating. It wasn’t a secret. She’d first heard about it at school from a friend. At first she hadn’t wanted to believe it. She’d gone home and tearfully asked her mother if Dad was leaving them to make a new family.
‘No, she’d never do that. It would mean admitting something was wrong.’
‘Everybody knows.’ And with Emma turning eighteen there was no reason to stay.
‘She isn’t qualified for anything, Indigo. She doesn’t want to be on welfare.’
Indigo sighed. Why hadn’t her mother started studying years ago? She was never going to be such a lettuce leaf when it came to men. ‘Why don’t you come and see me instead. I’ll pop you on the train as a birthday present.’