by Iris Blobel
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“That’s what the cocktail is for, honey.” Teagan took a deep breath. “Look, Katie. It’s been a miserable year for you. You had a good weekend and for what it’s worth, you had a few days not thinking of your sister. It’s not what you wanted, and probably not what you’d hoped for, but hold on to that thought and hopefully you’ll get over it sooner rather than later.”
“I still can’t believe he played me so perfectly. He really acted like he cared. And the thing is, he could’ve had any woman closer to Melbourne. I mean, didn’t you see the photo of his ex-girlfriend? This is an eight-hour drive for sex. It doesn’t make sense, Teagan.”
When her friend didn’t respond, Katie turned to look at her. She seemed in deep thought, but finally replied, “I agree.”
“Did you see his picture in the paper? I mean, holy smokes, Teagan, any sane woman would nibble on him.”
Teagan laughed. “I’m getting all hot just listening to you.”
Katie joined her friend’s laugh, but pushed her on the shoulder. “Go away. You’re plain dirty!”
There was a moment of silence as they both sipped at their drinks before Teagan said, “What do you mean by ex-girlfriend?”
“What?”
“You said I should have a look at the photo of his ex-girlfriend,” Teagan clarified.
“The one in the newspaper.”
“That’s his ex? This whole scenario is getting really weird. I should read the article.”
Katie shrugged. “It’s simply part of the puzzle. She’s all over the net. Anna, I think her name was. Or Anya. Some model who now lives in the U.S.” She sighed. “What I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t make sense to come here for a weekend when girls of Anya’s calibre—”
“Anita,” Teagan interrupted.
Katie’s lips went up in a sneer. “No worries, Anita it is then. Anyway…” She gently slapped her friend across the arm. “Now I’ve lost what I wanted to say.”
“Honey,” Teagan said calmly. “Don’t put yourself down. So what, he plays AFL. He obviously knows what to look for in a girl. He stopped that day at the beach, which means he cared. If he were some rich happy-go-lucky gigolo, he would’ve ignored you.”
“What are you saying? He’s not getting married?”
Teagan leaned back into the seat and with a smirk on her face said, “That, my dear, is a mystery to be solved.”
***
To say Tyson was fuming would’ve been an understatement. He was livid at the screw-up, even more that he’d been side flanked without any warning. Fury rose within him as he stared at the newspaper in front of him. He’d moved on, and he liked his life post-relationship with Anita. Tyson had spent one of the best weekends with Katie, and it had been pulled from under his feet within only twenty-four hours. His gaze wandered around the silent library, where he had escaped the insanity of phone calls, photographers, journalists and, quite to his shame, his mother. He hadn’t talked to her yet. Rubbing his face, he thought about how to attack the problem. The small gap between his hands provided him another sneaky peak at the picture of him and Anita in the paper.
Tyson Gaspaldi to tie the knot.
There was a big knot in his stomach, all right. He let out a low laugh, though it wasn’t funny at all.
Tyson reached into his pocket for his phone. There was a message from Oliver.
Bro what happened Wat kinda fuckup s that.
And another one from Mark.
Geez talkin abt changing ur mind! Call me.
Shaking his head, he replied to both.
Not sure wat the bitch wants will call soon.
At the moment, he needed reassurance, needed to listen, and talk to a familiar voice. The call was answered quickly, which meant his mother was sitting right next to the phone.
“Where are you, darlin’?” she answered.
“My usual spot,” he replied quietly.
“C’mon over to Grandma Hazel. She said the air was clear over there.”
He felt a smile cross his face as he heard his mother use the term ‘air is clear’, meaning there were no photographers or journalists.
Nodding, although he knew she couldn’t see him, he said, “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Hope Grandma Hazel has some chocolate cake for me.”
The sound of his mother’s laugh was comforting to him. “She hasn’t had Cailyn over for a couple of days, so there should be some in the fridge.”
As much as he loved his little niece, the war was on when it came to Grandma Hazel’s cake.
“Darlin’?”
“Yup?”
“Why would Anita lie to the press? I thought you stopped seeing that woman months ago?”
Tyson was silent for a moment. A long moment.
“Sweetheart?”
“Not sure whether I’d call it a lie, Mum. It’s sort of a long story.”
Tyson looked around, checking and making sure he was still safe in the library. Fortunately, it seemed like nobody listened to him or even cared. There weren’t any flashlights either.
Geez, he was in a mess. Desperate to remember his last conversation with Anita, he was sure, or at least he thought he was, that they had broken up when she’d moved to the U.S. It’d been nothing much anyway, and he was still cursing for allowing himself to fall for her. Her biggest intention had always been to make it big, either as a model or movie star. Going out with a footy player had come in handy for her career. By the time he’d found out he’d been used, it was too late. There hadn’t been a word since she’d left over a year earlier, and he’d been glad about it.
But getting married? Was she insane?
“Tyson?” His mother’s voice interrupted his train of thought.
“Hmm.” He raked his hand through his hair and focused on the group of children coming into the library, excitedly trying to be as quiet as possible. A smile crossed his face and for a brief moment, he imagined Katie.
“Mum! I’ll be at Grandma Hazel’s in about half an hour.”
“Take care, darlin’, and take the back way.”
“Will do, Mum. Love you.”
“Love you, too, son.”
Tyson hung up, feeling a third better already. The next third would be tricky. He scrolled through his phone and dialled the number he knew almost off by heart.
It rang. And again and again. Katie didn’t answer his call, though, and he left a message on her voicemail.
“This is Ty. Katie, I need to talk to you. Please call me. Don’t read the paper, and if you have, it’s even more important that you call me. Please Katie, give me a call.”
He hung up and did a mental eye roll for the most stupid phone message on record. At the door, he pulled his hoodie back on, as well as his sunglasses, and slowly walked out to his car. Letting out a sigh of relief, he was pleased not to see anybody outside the library who wanted his attention. He opened the car and slid easily behind the wheel when he noticed his phone buzzing. Hastily he grabbed it out of his pocket, hoping it was Katie.
“Hello?”
“Hello, lover.”
The sound of Anita’s fake American accent uttering the words made him sick, and he was hardly able to reply. Not only that, but he didn’t want to talk to her either. One wrong word from her, and he’d give her hell. He’d make her life hell on earth. Very much aware she was on a mission, he considered what to do. Not knowing what the mission was, he obviously needed to talk to her. But not today. Not now.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked abruptly.
“That’s not a very nice way to talk to your girl.”
“Cut the crap. Where are you?”
“In Melbourne. I still have my old flat here. Want to come and join me?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, taking deep breaths to calm down.
“Honey, I never joke when it comes to you.”
Ty leaned his head against the steering wheel and closed hi
s eyes, trying to stay as composed as possible. “You’d better fuck off and stay out of my life, Anita. You don’t wanna mess with me.”
Then he hung up the phone without waiting for her response.
It took Ty only twenty minutes to get to his grandmother’s house in the northern suburbs of Melbourne. He loved his grandma and appreciated that she treated him as if his job was a nine-to-five position. The whole fuss with him being famous because of his talent to kick the footy went right past her. She had no qualms sending him into the back yard to cut some wood for her or asking him to do some shopping when she didn’t feel well. The excuse of people recognising him didn’t work with her.
The worst part, though, was the day he cursed the house down because of some stupid report on the television, and she made him clean the fireplace twice that week. Deep inside he knew it was good for him; she kept him grounded. Half his size and probably only a third of his weight, she still had authority over him as well as over the family. Not even Markus or Oliver dared to answer back. Although, as he thought about it, he had a feeling his niece Cailyn ran rings around her. Grandma Hazel would stand in the kitchen to make chocolate mud-cakes all day long to please the little sunshine.
Traffic was always busy in Melbourne, no matter what the time was. It was ridiculous and sometimes the task to get from west to east seemed impossible. Or to the north, which was the way he had to go today. He turned into Garden Lane and saw his mother’s small car in the driveway. Slowing down, he casually looked around to see if other cars were parked around that didn’t seem to belong here. He decided the air was clear indeed. Tyson found the perfect hiding place for his car, in the back in front of Grandpa’s old shed.
The screeching of the back door hinges made him look up, and he smiled when he saw his grandma come towards him. At nearly eighty years of age, she was still on top of most things. Apart from her dress sense, which was still somewhere in the fifties. And the hair. The purple colour she wore this week had been overdone. The bright red lipstick didn’t help either. He shook his head and took her into his arms, conscious not to break any of her bones.
Taking his face into her hands, she looked up at him. “I’ve got a lot of cake waiting for you, young man!”
Ty placed a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you. It’s good to be here.”
“Come on in, son.”
He followed her into the house, and she wasn’t lying. The smell of a whole bakery engulfed him at the door. A warm rush of relief and comfort went through him. Tyson loved his grandmother’s homemade, rich chocolate mud-cake. It was a recipe handed down from generation to generation, and she wouldn’t even consider buying a cake at the store. Her cakes were always made from scratch. Inhaling the aroma that hung in the air, at that moment he couldn’t think of anything better to calm his anger and frustration.
“Your mum’s in the lounge, tidying up Cailyn’s mess.”
“How come she’s allowed to leave a mess, and I’m not allowed to even make a mess?” he asked with wounded pride, but as soon as she turned and shot him a glare he knew better.
The rustling noise of paper echoed through the house. Obviously, it was more than just a little mess, and he walked down the hall to help his mother.
“G’day, Mum.”
She spun around and with only a few steps came closer to give him a hug. “How are you?”
“Have been better.”
“Have a seat. I’ll get the cake and a cuppa, then we can organise a plan of attack.”
With an eye roll he shook his head. “Attack?”
“Anita. We need to get her—”
“Mum!”
She stopped fussing and looked at him.
“I just talked to her. She’s in Melbourne.”
Silence. He wondered whether his grandma was eavesdropping from the kitchen, because there wasn’t the slightest noise coming from down the hall.
Sitting down on the sofa opposite him, she stared at him in disbelief.
“Thing is, we never really broke up. She went to the U.S., and I thought it was over.”
There was no reply or comment from his mother. Leaning back farther into the seat, he said, “Hell, she was there for over a year, hardly any contact. If any at all. How was I supposed to know she was still in it?”
His mother didn’t move, and he appreciated she let him finish the background of their relationship.
“Then I met Katie.” He paused as he noticed some flickering in his mother’s eyes. “She’s the one I met up at the coast.”
A nod from his mother.
“She’s everything I really like in a girl. I went to see her over the weekend to look after her.”
The nod stopped, and she stared.
“She’s got a cold.”
They both broke into a big smile when they heard Grandma Hazel say from the kitchen, “You’ve got the caring part from this side of the family. Did you make her chicken soup?”
“No,” he yelled back, although not sure why, because it seemed as if she heard him very well anyway.
“You should’ve said something. I would’ve made chicken soup for you and your girl. And cake, of course.”
“I’ll try to remember next time.”
His mother tapped him gently on his knee. “Focus, son. Focus.”
Tyson let out a deep breath. “You’d like her. She’s not much into AFL either, more a rugby girl.”
She choked back a snigger. “Don’t let your father hear that.”
Laughing, he raked a hand through his short hair.
“Anyway, back to Anita. Where on earth did she get the idea you two were getting married?”
With his hand still at the back of his head, he looked up to the ceiling. “I did ask her to marry me to make her stay.”
“But you never loved her.”
“I thought I did.”
“You knew you didn’t. You two were fighting more than you were loving.”
He closed his eyes for a moment to ponder her comment. “That obvious, eh?”
She nodded. “You’re my son, Ty. I know you. You’re part of me, and as a mum I have a sixth sense about my children’s feelings.”
His mum was right, and his stomach clenched at the memory of their fights. Anita represented all things glamorous and as he started his career in the AFL, she started to make plans for a massive house and big holidays. Money was everything to her. He started to figure things out the day Grandma Hazel had asked him and Anita to help her in the backyard. Anita wouldn’t have any of it, and she’d left in a huff. He was sure Katie wouldn’t mind working in the garden, looking after flowers.
Anita paid more attention to her nails and hair. She always had to have the right outfit for every occasion. She desired admiration, and wanted to be seen by the press. To be the talk of the town was important to her. Their relationship had been a fake. She needed his name. He had liked the company and the passionate nights. It was one of his biggest mistakes, if not the biggest mistake to ask her to marry him and in hindsight, he was glad she had taken off to the U.S.
His grandma came in with a plate of mud-cake for everyone. “I should’ve made you work in the garden earlier.”
He chuckled.
“Did you tell her off for making such a claim?”
He nodded. “I told her I’d ring my management later this afternoon to make a statement to rectify what she said.”
“So things aren’t as bad as they seem.”
“She flew right off the handle, cursing like a trooper, threatening to make my life miserable.”
Concern spread across his mother’s face.
“To make matters worse, I laughed. But more at her hilarious attempt to keep the fake American accent than anything else.”
Putting another piece of cake in his mouth, he noticed the grins on the ladies’ faces.
He sighed again. “I’ll give Mike a call and ask him to prepare the statement. Get him to call her and negotiate whether she wants the hard or the easy w
ay.”
“What’s the easy way?”
“To emphasise this was all a misunderstanding.”
“The hard way?”
“To emphasise she’s failed in the U.S. and this claim is just so she can make it into the headlines to get some attention.”
“That’s my boy,” Grandma Hazel uttered with her mouth full.
He stood and took the plate to the table before grabbing his cup of tea. “Now I just need some divine intervention to get everything sorted with Katie. She’s not answering or returning any of my calls.”
For Ty, that was more frustrating than dealing with Anita. It was actually more than that. It nearly broke his heart.
***
Katie curled up in her bed with a hot water bottle. Her nose ached. Her throat ached. And her heart ached. Hoping she’d given him a load full of germs to cause him to miss out on a few training sessions gave her some comfort. Ignoring his latest call, she got up to make another cup of tea. Initially, she’d intended to go to work to keep her mind off the latest events, but that had quickly dissolved when she found out how wobbly and weak her legs had been once she stood. Unable to keep her balance, she’d given up and rang in sick. After all, she was sick, and lovesick on top of it.
What an idiot she’d been, falling for one of the hottest guys in the AFL, probably all of Victoria. She stumbled over a shoe and as she looked down, she noticed Tyson had forgotten his pair of sneakers he’d used for his morning jog. Another rush of emotions made her tears run freely down her cheeks. Nursing her toe, she threw one shoe after the other towards the kitchen, promising to throw them in the bin later on.
Katie sighed in frustration when the phone rang again. She leaned against the wall. The answering machine kicked in, and she listened to the voice, which had hypnotised her all weekend.
Her body felt three times as heavy as it should, and it took a lot of effort for her to stand, but she reached for the phone.
“Ty, I’d appreciate if you’d stop calling.”
There was a brief moment of silence, and she was able to hear his breathing. Finally, he said, “Please, Katie. You need to ignore the paper. It’s a lie.”