“Do you want to come back to my place for a drink?”
Evan raised his eyebrows. “Really? Oh, umm, I—”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she said, trying to disguise the disappointment in her voice. Why in God’s name are you disappointed?
“No, it’s not that. I’d like to, it’s just…”
“What?” What?
“I’m surprised, is all.”
Kate took a step back, frowning. “What’s to be surprised about? We’ve had a good time, haven’t we?” Don’t get upset about it, you idiot.
“I’ve had a great time, even with the threat of random violence, but like you said, it’s only our first date. Let’s not move too fast.” He put his hands behind his head, stretching. “I think it would be better if I got going. It’s a long drive back to Queenstown. Thanks for the offer though — it’s very tempting.” He smiled suggestively.
She didn’t smile back. “The offer of what? I only asked you for a drink.” Oh, my God. What are you doing? She sighed, her relief and frustration and desire taking form in the cloud that rose from her mouth.
“Of course,” he said, the smile staying put. “Next time, I promise.”
“Who’s to say there’s going to be a next time?” What are you, twelve?
“Oh, I think there will be.” With that, he ran his fingers through her hair, pulled her close, and pressed his lips to hers.
She closed her eyes again, savouring his taste (sticky date pudding — mmm), feeling the heat of his body, melting into him. Then he was gone, crunching across the gravel to his car. The engine sputtered to life, spewing black smoke. He waved, a blurry smudge through the dirty window, then drove off into the night, tyres slipping on the loose stones.
“Until next time,” she whispered, watching his headlights snaking through the dark.
ELEVEN
The following morning, Kate sang loud and off-key as she vacuumed the hallway carpet.
“When a flower grows wild it can always survive.
Wildflowers don't care where they groo-oow.”
Corbin, who was trying to watch TV, shouted at her to stop.
Kate ignored him, dancing her way down the hall, her mind on Evan and the previous night. She closed her eyes, reliving their parting kiss, a delicious shiver running up her spine, when the doorbell rang. She switched the vacuum cleaner off and went to open the front door, her jaw dropping as it revealed her parents.
“Mum, Dad,” she said, recovering, “what a pleasant surprise. What are you doing here?”
Kate’s mother, Elizabeth, was a severe and elegant woman of fifty-seven. Her resemblance to Kate was striking, though her features were harder, her hair darker. She waged a constant war with the aging process, but fifty years of frowning had etched lines into her forehead and beneath her eyes that no amount of expensive European make-up could hide.
Malcolm, Kate’s father, was as round as his wife was slim, but unlike her he was resigned to getting old. Where she was meticulous about dyeing her hair to disguise the silvered roots he was proud of his full grey crop, coupling it with a short beard. He wore round reading glasses that spent most of their time sitting on his head. He would sometimes search for them, upturning cushions and rooting under the furniture, only to have Elizabeth point out he was wearing them, just not over his eyes. He smiled more than his wife, though he was equally stubborn, and in his own way just as severe when the mood struck him.
“Good morning, dear.” Her mother leaned in to peck Kate on the cheek. “Your father and I are on our way to Wanaka for a few days and thought we’d best stop in to say hello, since we haven’t seen you for so long.”
“How lovely.” Kate beckoned them inside. “Come in, come in, I was just doing the vacuuming.”
Her father gave her a kiss as he shuffled past, the scratch of his beard against her chin familiar and comforting. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks, Dad. You?” She rested her hand on his back and guided him inside, closing the door behind him.
“Where’s my cheeky little monkey?” said Elizabeth, gliding from the entrance alcove into the lounge, followed by her husband.
“Nana!” cried Corbin. He ran to her and she swept him into her arms.
“Wow, Corbin, you’re such a big boy!” said Malcolm, tickling him.
“Gandad!” he exclaimed, giggling and squirming. Malcolm relented and Corbin turned to Kate, saying, “Look Mummy, Nana an’ Gandad.”
“I know, hun. What a surprise, huh?” Kate slipped into the kitchen. “Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked, switching the kettle on.
“Yes, please,” said Elizabeth, lowering Corbin to the floor.
He grabbed her hand, tugging on it. “Nana, come.”
“Where are we going? Have you got something to show me?”
Corbin nodded, and Elizabeth followed him out through the kitchen and down the hall. Malcolm took a seat at the dining table, peering through the window to the garden outside.
“Tea or coffee, Dad?”
“Whatever you’re having.”
“You sure? I’m having peppermint.”
“Oh no, I can’t stand that herbal stuff. Coffee then, thanks.”
Kate nodded and busied herself making their drinks.
“So,” said Malcolm, gazing round the room, “How’s everything? The house is looking good.”
“I told you, Dad, everything’s fine.”
He paused, his gaze returning to the window. “What’s the big burnt patch on the lawn? Did you have a party? Little early for Guy Fawkes.”
Kate shifted her feet, lips pressed tight. His tone was light but she could guess what was coming next. “You could say that.”
“I see. What were you celebrating?”
She considered lying. She had told them about Lawrence moving out but hadn’t yet mentioned the deed that was the catalyst for it. She dearly loved her mother and father but they were nosy, Elizabeth especially — she was probably rifling through Kate’s room at this very moment — and Kate was wary of feeding them too much information about her life. But her father was fishing, which meant they’d heard something. Kate wasn’t the only person her parents knew in Cromwell, and through the chill winter nights of the high-country, gossip was almost as good as firewood at keeping people warm.
Sighing, she said, “If you must know, I was celebrating Lawrence’s departure from my life, the cheating bastard.”
“Is that right?” came her mother’s stony voice over her shoulder.
Kate cringed as Elizabeth marched past her, Corbin trotting along behind. Elizabeth settled him on the couch and then sat down next to her husband.
“And where is Lawrence now?’ she asked, frowning.
Kate shrugged. “Who knows? I don’t keep tabs on him.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I was afraid that might be the case.”
“What do you mean, afraid? He cheated on me. I couldn’t let him stay here any longer — the mere sight of him made me want to throw up. He wasn’t willing to take ownership of his behaviour, so I dumped all his shit on the lawn and set fire to it while he was at work. He came home to watch it burn. It was extremely satisfying.”
“There’s no need for that kind of language.” Elizabeth scrunched her nose. “And to take pleasure from such a silly action — really, dear, it’s beneath you.”
“What language? You mean shit?” Kate snorted, nostrils flaring. “That’s nothing, Mum. You should have heard what I said when I was pouring petrol on his golf clubs. We took vows, life-long vows, and he broke them. I think I’m entitled to be angry.” She paused, taking a deep breath, resting her palms on the kitchen counter. “Anyway, the jug’s boiled. What tea would you like?” She felt tears welling and turned her back, not wanting her parents to see.
“Earl Grey?” asked Elizabeth, her tone softer.
Kate prepared the drinks, not looking at her parents. No one spoke, the only sound coming from the chatt
ering TV. When she was certain she had control of her tears, she plunged her father’s coffee and poured it into his cup, then added milk to her mother’s tea before delivering them to the table. Returning to the kitchen for her own cup, she leaned against the counter and took a sip of the steaming, pungent liquid, closing her eyes.
When she opened them again, her father was looking at her, his eyes doleful. He patted the table. “Come and sit with us.”
Kate stared at him for a moment, cradling her cup of tea, then sighed and took a seat opposite her parents.
“Your father and I were hoping to make it over here earlier but his work commitments wouldn’t allow it. We hoped we might be able to talk some sense into both you and Lawrence.”
“Sense?” said Kate, shaking her head. “Do you really not get it?”
“Oh, Katherine, of course I get it. I know you’re hurting. But you said it yourself, you both took vows. All men are stupid, dear, and they do stupid things.”
“I wouldn’t say all men—”
Elizabeth shot Malcolm a glare that cut his retort short. She carried on. “It’s a woman’s lot to bear their stupidity and assist them in growing out of it. I mean, is this the answer?” She waved her hand towards Corbin sitting on the couch. “Single motherhood, using the TV as a babysitter? It seems an enormous price to pay, and for what? Your pride?”
“Oh, my God, you’re unbelievable.”
“Am I?” She leaned forward, clasping her hands together, an earnest expression on her face. “Speaking of God, you know he preaches forgiveness. This is a test of faith, Katherine, and you need to consider the bigger picture. If you could find it in your heart to forgive Lawrence, wouldn’t that be the best thing? For all of you, but especially for Corbin.”
“No, Mum,” said Kate, rubbing her eyes, “it really wouldn’t. Did Dad ever cheat on you?”
“Hell, no,” said Malcolm, grinning. “Your mother would’ve murdered me.”
“Not helping.” Elizabeth stabbed her husband with an icy stare. “No, he never cheated on me — least not so I know — but he’s done any number of other things that made me want to kick him out of the house.”
“Like what?” Kate asked.
Elizabeth turned to her husband, sipping her tea, then shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know dear, it’s all in the past. And it doesn’t matter anyway — the important thing is that I didn’t kick him out of the house. I forgave him, and we worked it out. We did that for you, for you and your sister. Children need two parents. That’s half the problem with the country these days — too many children running around without their fathers. Corbin’s not old enough to understand what’s going on — the poor boy can’t know whether he’s coming or going. Children need routine, dear. There’s no way he can get that when he’s sleeping in a different bed every other night.”
“He’s not in a different bed every other night!” Kate dragged her fingers through her hair. “He has a routine.”
“So what is it? Where’s Lawrence living now?”
“Not far away. He’s rented a place on the north side of town, down by the lake.”
“When does Corbin stay with him?”
“Every second weekend.”
“And what happens when he stays? Does Lawrence follow your routines?”
“I don’t know,” said Kate, her voice strained, shoulders slumped. “I hope so. He knows it’s important.”
“Yes, but like I said, dear, men are stupid. Just because he knows it’s important doesn’t mean he’s doing it. Men aren’t good at those sorts of things.”
“Oh, I don’t know if that’s true,” said Malcolm. “I always kept a routine with you girls.”
Elizabeth gave a haughty laugh, sneering at him. “Only because I told you what to do and when to do it.” She turned back to Kate. “You can’t expect Lawrence to take on the role of a mother, any more than you can be expected to take on the role of a father.”
“No one’s expecting that! Lawrence is his father.” Under her breath, she said, “Unfortunately, but there’s nothing I can do about that.”
“But he’s not living in the same house. Parents are supposed to work together.”
“We do work together!” said Kate, raising her hands, palms upturned. “Or at least I try to. It’s not easy at the moment because he’s an arsehole and I wish he was dead, but hopefully that’ll improve over time.”
“Oh, Kate, don’t be so silly.”
“I’m not being silly! How can you not get it? He betrayed us both, Mum, me and Corbin.”
“Yes, he messed up, I understand that. But forgive him, Kate. Work on it. He’s a good man, really. I’m sure he knows he’s made a mistake.”
“Messed up? It’s not like he forgot our wedding anniversary.” She closed her eyes, slowly shaking her head. Talking with her mother was pointless. “He fucked another woman,” she snarled suddenly, eyes snapping open. “This is what happens when married men fuck other women. Their marriages end.”
“Kate! Your language—”
“No, Mum, stop it! I haven’t done anything wrong here. Kicking him out of the house was the only option.”
“No, it wasn’t! You could have tried to work it out. What’s the big deal? It’s just sex. He has a life with you, a child with you. You can’t throw that all away over one stupid mistake.”
Kate groaned, then pushed her chair out from the table. “You know what? I’m not doing this, not now. I’m sorry, but you need to leave.”
Elizabeth choked on her tea. “Pardon?”
“You heard me. I want you to leave.”
Elizabeth waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Kate stood. “I’m serious, Mum. Thanks for coming to visit and all that, but I want you to go now. I don’t want to listen to anything else you have to say.”
“Is this how you deal with conflict?” asked Elizabeth, eyes bulging. “Kick anyone who disagrees with you out of the house? I’m your mother, Kate!”
Kate gave a harsh laugh. “That’s right. And as such, you should support me and back my decisions. If you’re not prepared to do that… well, we’ll just have to agree to disagree, but we can do that from a distance.”
“I can’t support you when you’ve made the wrong decision!”
“I haven’t made the wrong decision!” Kate screamed.
Corbin, who was now standing on the couch, eyes on Kate, began to cry.
“Now look what you’ve done.” Elizabeth swivelled in her chair and made as if to stand but Kate raised a hand to stop her.
“I’ve got him.” She strode past her mother and scooped Corbin into her arms. Holding him tight, she ignored her mother’s stony presence behind her until Corbin stopped crying and her anger had subsided. She turned around and nodded towards the front door. “Please, Mum,” she pleaded.
Elizabeth opened her mouth, a pained expression on her face, then sighed, a sharp exhalation that parted her fringe. Suddenly her expression changed, the clouds parting, and she flashed a sunny smile. “Come on then, Malcolm,” she said brusquely, then stood and glided across the floor to kiss Corbin on the back of the head. “Nana’s going now, darling.” She brushed her hands across his cheek, ignoring Kate, then flowed out the door without another word.
Malcolm pushed himself off the table with a grunt and arched his back, hands on his hips.
“Sorry, Dad, but you understand, don’t you?”
He nodded. “Course I do, love. I’m not going to say I agree, but I understand.” Moving close, he wrapped his arms around both her and Corbin, squeezing gently. “Don’t cry,” he said, brushing a tear from Kate’s cheek. “She’ll be fine. She’s just not used to people standing up to her like that. Still, stubborn mother, stubborn daughter — she’s only got herself to blame.” He took a step backwards, withdrawing his wallet from the pocket of his pants. “Now, have you got enough money?”
Kate shook her head. “Dad, it’s fine. Lawrence is still paying the mort
gage.”
“And how long’s that going to last? Here, take a coupl’a hundred—”
Kate gripped his arm. “No, Dad. I don’t want your money. I’m sorted, okay? It’s not a problem.”
Frowning, Malcolm returned his wallet to his trousers. “All right. But we’ll be at the crib for a week or so. Call us if you need anything — anything at all, okay?”
“I will,” said Kate, managing a weak smile. She lowered Corbin to the floor, holding his hand as they followed Malcolm outside. Her mother was waiting in the car, the sun-visor pulled down so Kate couldn’t see her face.
Malcolm gave Kate and Corbin a parting kiss and climbed in the driver’s side.
“Bye, Nana. Bye, Gandad,” said Corbin.
With her free hand, Kate joined him in waving as her father reversed down the driveway and onto the street. Malcolm poked his head out the window and shouted goodbye, returning their wave.
Her mother didn’t.
TWELVE
Kate pushed through the glass door of the Mountain View Early Learning Centre, Corbin trudging behind her, to see a crouching Tracy stuffing a pink schoolbag into one of the cubby-holes lining the walls on both sides of the cloak-room. Hayley stood beside her, a lavender butterfly clip in her hair, and tugged on Tracy’s sleeve when she saw them.
“Good morning, Trace,” said Kate.
“Is it?” Tracy began removing Hayley’s jacket. “So far this mornin’ Hayley’s thrown her bowl of cornflakes at me and drawn a huge picture of… I don’t know… what was it, Hayley?”
Hayley didn’t answer, staring blankly at her mother.
“It looked like a flying potato… with arms and testicles. All over the wallpaper in the hallway. I tried to clean it off but all I did was smudge it. Thank fuckin' God for this place.” She stuffed the jacket into the cubby-hole with Hayley’s bag.
Taking the Plunge Page 8