He hung up and knowing she would call back, knowing she wouldn’t be able to help herself, he blocked her number. Then he sat down at his laptop and changed all the passwords on his email, work, and social media accounts. When he was done and his breathing was slightly more even, he picked up his pen and began to write.
A girl showed up at my work; the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. She’s so sweet it hurts your teeth, and I hate her for it because I’ve lost my taste for sweet. Still, I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I kept my distance for a while but the pull we felt toward each other was too strong.
I rescue her on a work trip. I hope she never knows what I rescued her from, I hope she never feels any kind of pain again. She climbs into my bed that night and puts her hands on me. When she does, I can feel every plan I had being smoothed away, replaced by thick fat arrows pointing in her direction. It’s the start of something big and I’m so fucking scared I back away.
She’s braver than me, though, she refuses to take no for an answer. She comes to me and when we kiss I lose myself in her. We start dating and after I pull my head out of my ass we make it official.
People talk but it doesn’t matter, we’re in love. We fuck a lot and drink a lot of wine. We travel the world together and get a dog. By the time she’s thirty no one will give a damn about the age gap. When people ask when we’re getting married, I’ll smile and say, “What do you think Katie, do you want to be Mrs Henderson?” and she’ll laugh. One day she’ll say yes.
He hesitated, then added a final line.
Maybe we have kids, maybe we don’t, either way, we’ll be happy.
The minute Ty was done, he put down his pen and headed downstairs. The paint he could do tonight, he thought, grabbing his keys. Veronica’s books and clothes he could give to the Salvation Army tomorrow. The new kitchen table would be a pain in the arse, but maybe Georgie would want to go to IKEA on the weekend. She fucking loved that stupid place.
“Where are you going?” His neighbour asked as Ty climbed into his Hilux. “Out for dinner?”
“Gotta get some stuff for the house,” he said.
“Bit late, isn’t it?”
Ty couldn’t help laughing at that. “Yeah, but it’s better late than never.”
Chapter 23
The woman’s stamp hovered over Kate’s form. “You’re sure about this?”
“Definitely. One hundred percent.”
“You’ll have to get all new identity documents. We’re talking a new driver’s license, passport, bank accounts, electoral enrolment, and insurance.”
“I can’t wait to do that stuff,” Kate said honestly. “Please stamp it?”
The woman eyed her once more, gave her a look that said if there was any way she could get out of doing this she would, then she thumped her stamp down on the form.
“It’s done?” Kate asked.
“It’s done.” The woman’s lips twitched upward. “Congratulations. Just lemme go get the documents you need to apply for new identification.”
As she stood up, Kate gripped the marble counter, dizzy with the truth of what she’d just done. She had a new name. Well, an old name, but it was officially new. “Set fire to the fairy,” she whispered.
“Pardon?” The woman was back with a fat sheaf of papers.
“I said erm, ‘thank you?’”
“Right.” The woman gave her another suspicious look. “I’ll just talk you through how these forms work and then you can leave.”
Kate listened, took the forms and headed outside. Only when she was breathing in the fresh spring air did she allow herself to say it out loud. “Kate Rhonda McGrath. Kate. Rhonda. McGrath. Finally.”
She pulled out her phone and updated the list she kept in the notes app, a digital version of the one Casey, Tam, and Rapunzel had helped her write all those weeks ago. She added ‘change name to Kate’ to the completed section and basked in the satisfying glow of crossing something big off her to-do list.
It was a little addictive—in the two weeks she’d been back in Melbourne she’d cut her hair to her shoulders, told her family to stop sniping at her or she wouldn’t come home for Christmas, and thrown her first party. It had been eighties themed, and she and Rapunzel had spent the next week picking glitter out of their hair, clothes, and rugs. Rapunzel and her cat Pebbles had moved in while Kate was still in Prague, helping to water the plants and check her mail and throw out her expired dairy products and whatnot.
When Kate arrived home, Rapunzel helped her tackle a few of the larger items on her list—organizing the party and selling Aunt Rhonda’s creepier naked lady statues on Greys.com so Kate could afford to re-decorate the apartment.
It had been hard, packing away her aunt’s beloved things, but one of the items on her list had been to finally accept the Elizabeth Street apartment was hers and make it a home rather than a shrine to her incredible but definitely deceased Aunt. As of now, there were only three things left on Kate’s list: buy new, non-princess clothes, delete Kinkworld account, and throw away dildo .
The last two items on her list were, in theory, the simplest, but Kate would have preferred to spend all day trying on ill-fitting cream blouses and bad skirts than tackle them. While she no longer felt comfortable on Kinkworld, she couldn’t escape the feeling that Ty might try to contact her there and for weeks the glass dildo he’d given her had been the only thing that could get her off. It was almost certainly a psychosomatic affliction, but still. Getting rid of both of them would feel like shutting a door on hope and pleasure. Her phone rang, and she answered it. “Hello?”
“Certified?” Rapunzel asked.
“Hell yeah, it’s certified.”
Rapunzel hooted so loudly Kate had to take the phone away from her ear. “Well done, Peach! Or should I say Just-Kate? Are you home to delete your perv account and chuck out the dildo, then?”
Kate grimaced. “I know I should, but—”
“Get your arse home right now.” Rapunzel’s voice was stony. “You made a promise, today’s the day.”
“But—”
“Do it, Middleton.” Rapunzel had developed the habit of calling her that whenever Kate was dragging her feet. She’d noticed that, probably because of all of Ty’s spankings, the word had a galvanising effect.
“I will, but—”
“You’d do it if Dexter asked you to do it. You’d be sprinting home to chuck out your dildo. Yes sir, no sir, I’ll have it in a landfill by midnight, sir.”
“Shh.” Kate glanced around as though Ty might be standing nearby, smiling his sardonic smile, his hands shoved into the pockets of his beautiful coat. “You know it’s redundant to invoke Ty’s name to make me do things designed to help me get over Ty, right?”
“Not sure what that means, Peach, don’t really give a shit either way. Catch the tram home and throw out your magic dildo.”
Kate groaned. “Okay, god, I will.”
“Excellent. I’ll expect you within the hour. If you’re any later than that I’ll start setting your books on fire.” She hung up.
For a weed-dealing dropout and Uber Eats driver, Kate suspected Rapunzel would make an excellent Fortune 500 corporate dictator.
She put in her ear buds and caught the tram home, listening to happy music and trying to brace herself for what was about to happen. Her broken heart had scabbed over a little on her trip to Prague, but she still missed Ty like fire. Part of her longed for her early days at GGS when he was her unobtainable crush and their future was way out in front of them. Back then, she’d thought just getting to sleep with him once would make her the happiest girl in the world. The truth was both lovelier and more painful than that. There was a glossiness to loving someone from afar that loving someone up close couldn’t match.
Part of her still hoped Ty would reach out to her and say that he changed his mind and was ready for a real relationship, but seeing as he hadn’t, she’d set herself a deadline
—a month of pining, and then no more.
And hell, Kate thought as she strode into her building, if I miss the dildo that much, I can always buy the same one again then take a leaf out of Casey’s book and sage it.
“Katie?”
She looked up to see Stephen the security guy smiling at her from the front desk. “What’s up?”
“Can you please empty your post box? It’s reached bursting point again.”
“Shoot.”
Kate always forgot to check her mail because why the hell were people sending her mail, anyway? She headed back outside toward the metal rack of post-boxes. Stephen was right, several corners of brightly coloured paper were protruding from her slot. She unlocked it and despite her best efforts to contain the explosion, brochures burst out like bad confetti.
Sighing, Kate picked up all the Domino’s fliers and ads for two-for-one mud facials before spotting something unusual—a thick white envelope gleaming with pearlescent lustre in the afternoon sun.
She groaned. One of her lesser known cousins had to be getting married. Kate was on slightly better terms with her family now that she’d confronted them about being buttholes, but that didn’t mean she wanted to spend nine hours with them at a wedding. She picked up the envelope and turned it over, expecting to see a little heart sticker and a ‘save the date’ and instead saw something that made her jaw drop.
“Are you okay?” Stephen said, sticking his head through the front door. “Need a hand?”
“I’m okay, I’m okay. Really.” Kate scooped all of her mail into a big messy pile. “Thanks for letting me know about the mail, I won’t let it happen again. I’ll see you later!”
Stephen barely had time to agree before Kate sprinted toward the elevator. The thirty-second journey up was agony and as soon as she reached her floor she ran toward her apartment with the fervour of someone being chased by Predator. She flung the door open, dumped all her junk mail on the floor and tore into the white envelope.
“Whoa!” Rapunzel called from the couch. “The fuck’s happening, Peach?”
Kate was too wound up to answer. From the moment she’d seen Ty’s return address on the back of the envelope, she only had room for one thought—why?
Why would Ty have written to her? Was he mad? Happy? Sad? Dead and his funeral invites were really flipping fancy? Re-engaged to his old fiancée and inviting her to his wedding as a final cuss-you?
She pulled out a card, the same shining white colour as the envelope, and read it so quickly she only took in half the words. Safe in the knowledge he wasn’t dead or getting married, she took a deep breath and read it again.
Middleton,
I’m in love with you. I’m sorry for what you overheard at The Breton Club, I was an idiot and I didn’t mean a fucking word. You were never my dirty secret, I was ashamed of what I felt, I couldn’t believe a girl like you could ever really love me. I was wrong, and for that I’m sorry. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, come over to my house this Saturday at 7 pm. Wear a nice dress.
–Ty
A smile like warm butter spread itself across her face. “Oh my gosh.”
“Language!” Rapunzel bellowed from the couch.
“Oh my god!” Kate said obligingly. “Fucking hell!”
“Better.” Rapunzel sat up, her braid flopping over the couch like a lethargic snake. “So, old mate’s come crawling back, has he?”
“It would seem so.”
“Thought he would. What did he say?”
Kate stared down at the envelope in a daze. “He says he loves me.”
Rapunzel grinned. “Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t throw out that dildo, hey?”
Chapter 24
“Are you okay?” the cab driver asked.
Kate immediately stopped slapping herself in the face. “Sorry, I was just…trying to wake up.”
The driver, a handsome Pakistani man, shrugged. “Fair enough, lady.”
Kate tried not to laugh. She was so freaking nervous she was a danger to herself and others. All afternoon she’d been driving Rapunzel and Pebbles up the wall trying on a million different dresses and asking a million ‘what-if’ questions.
“I have no idea what’s going to happen, Peach,” Rapunzel bellowed. “But Dexter already said he was in love with you, so calm the fuck down!”
Kate tried, but it didn’t last very long. She was going on a date with the guy she was in love with. A guy she hadn’t seen for weeks. A guy who’d sent her a card and then flowers and then champagne and then a book of Rilke poems and then a book of Rumi poems and then had stopped sending her stuff because Rapunzel found him on Facebook and told him he was trying too hard and she was sick of all the delighted screaming.
Ty’s place was big and narrow, almost like a lighthouse. It seemed familiar to her, but maybe that was just the smell of salt on the wind and the rhythmic sound of the sea rolling in and out. Sensory experiences that were both intrinsic to her childhood and a hell of a lot more pleasant to recall than the scent of perpetually damp laundry and boiling mince.
She stood on Ty’s doorstep, inhaling and exhaling with the ocean before hitting the doorbell.
A minute passed, and her brain started telling her she’d gotten the wrong time, the wrong place, that Ty had meant to send the envelope to another Middleton—he called all his girls Middleton. Thankfully, common sense made her press the doorbell again before bursting into tears and she heard the pounding of heavy footsteps coming toward her.
“Sorry,” Ty called out. “I was getting dressed.”
Just the sound of his voice made her mouth go dry.
“It’s all good,” she told the door.
The wood swung open to reveal Tyler Henderson in all his glory. The sight of him was a shock, like being shoved into a pool in your best shoes. He looked different. Gorgeous, but different. He’d gotten a haircut, and stubble grew across his jaw like gold sand, but it was more than that. Something had changed, something Kate couldn’t quite put her finger on…
“Hey,” he said, grinning broadly. “You cut your hair. It looks beautiful. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks,” Kate said, running her hand through her shorter locks. “I…thanks. It’s a lot easier to wash.”
“Added benefits, huh?” Ty stepped back and held the door open for her. “Want to come inside?”
“Are we not going out for dinner?”
He ducked his head. “Well, actually, I’m, uh, making us dinner.”
“Oh.” Her brain whirred frantically, trying to make sense of this unexpected development. She should have brought something, she realised—flowers, wine, Pictionary, something. After all the things he’d sent her, why hadn’t she brought him something? “Sorry, I didn’t bring anything.”
“It’s fine.” Ty held out a hand. “Please, come inside?”
Kate stared at his hand , so big and hard and freely offered. She took it and let him lead her into his home.
It was a lovely place, polished floorboards and big windows Kate was sure framed fantastic beach views during the day. The colour scheme was blokey—blue, burgundy and black—but it wasn’t too overpowering. The art on the walls was nice, landscapes and bold oils that reminded her of Aunt Rhonda’s place. Her place , Kate corrected herself.
Ty brought her into his kitchen. It was a cosy, handsome room with an exposed brick oven and cream walls. A few candles were burning on the wooden counter, tall white pillars that would have reminded Kate of church, if church had ever been warm, romantic and scented with roasting meat.
“We’re having lamb for dinner,” Ty said, gesturing to one of the burgundy bar stools. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“I am,” Kate said, then she had to ask. “You can cook? Like actually cook?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Wow.” Wait till Casey hears about this, she’ll kill me then wear my face as a mask and try to get Ty to fall in love with her.
Ty walked over to a side cupboard and pulled out a crystal champagne glass. “Is me knowing how to cook that surprising?”
“No, I guess I just never heard any of the guys at work talking about it.”
That made him laugh. “Good to know I have some secrets left. I worked in a couple of restaurants after I graduated uni. Thought about being a chef.”
“Seriously?” Kate imagined Ty in a white jacket barking orders from behind a gleaming kitchen counter. “I think I can see that. Why didn’t you?”
Ty produced a dark green champagne bottle from his fridge and began peeling away the foil. “Lifestyle didn’t agree with me. Long hours, shit pay, lots of drugs. I still like cooking, though. It’s creative and practical at the same time.”
He popped the champagne cork and caught the sparkling fluid in the glass, where it shone like captured starlight. He placed it in front of her.
“Thank you,” she said, reaching for it.
“Hang on a sec.”
To Kate’s surprise, he grabbed a second smaller bottle and shook a few purple drops into the champagne.
“Are you poisoning me?” Kate asked, as the purple liquid billowed through the bubbles. “Is that what all this has come to? You luring me here under false pretences and murdering me?”
He laughed, the skin around his eyelids crinkling. “It’s blackcurrant liquor, not poison.”
“Sure,” Kate said, like she knew blackcurrant liquor was a thing. “So, why aren’t you having any?”
“Because it’s for you.”
Kate understood what he was doing, just like she understood why she’d never come to his house before. Some people didn’t give a damn about their homes, considered them no more than a place to store stuff and sleep. Ty clearly didn’t feel that way. His house was like the brother of Aunt Rhonda’s apartment, an externalisation of himself. Just looking around she could tell everything there had been chosen because he loved it, everything that was on display was because he wanted to see it. Bringing her into his home would have been like showing her his insides and before now, neither of them had been ready.
Act Your Age Page 37