Taking the Plunge

by J. B. Reynolds

  Malcolm was sitting on the floor with Corbin. Making accompanying engine noises, he drove a toy car over Corbin’s leg, causing him to giggle with delight.

  Still seated on the couch, Elizabeth looked up as Kate entered. “Who was that?” she asked.

  Her tone was nonchalant, but Kate knew her mother, ever the gossip, was dying to know. She considered lying, then decided she didn’t care. Her mother could think what she wanted.

  “Evan.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “The snowboarder?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I thought he was history?”

  “Oh, believe me, he is.”

  “What did he want?”

  Kate lowered herself into the armchair previously occupied by her mother. “To intervene in his love life, would you believe? Turns out he had a girlfriend the whole time I was seeing him.”

  Elizabeth’s frown deepened. “It’s your own fault, you know. You should never have been chasing him in the first place. A snowboarding instructor? I mean, come on — it’s beneath you. If you’d taken the energy you spent on him and put it into repairing your relationship with Lawrence you wouldn’t be in the mess you are now. No wonder he’s stuck with this other woman. You’ve pushed him away.”

  Kate shrank into her seat, eyes wide. “Ahh, there we go,” she said, nodding slowly, “the understanding woman we all know and love.”

  “Now now, ladies,” said Malcolm, his hand raised, toy car suspended in mid-jump. “Let’s keep it civil.”

  He and Elizabeth exchanged glances, and with a sigh, she said to Kate, “I’m sorry, darling. It’s just that I worry about Corbin. I told you — children need a mother and a father.”

  Kate shut her eyes, tipping her head back, letting it sink further into the cushioned leather of the armchair. She felt too tired to deal with her mother’s stubborn refusal to accept that the world had moved on since the nineteen-fifties. “And I told you, Corbin has a mother and a father,” she said, her voice flat, eyes still closed.

  “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  She opened her eyes. “Then what do you suggest?”

  “Win him back. The fact that he wanted to reconnect with you shows that he cares. I’m sure, deep down, he still loves you. What does this woman have that you don’t? Don’t take no for an answer. Show him what he’s missing out on.”

  “Oh-my-God.” She spaced each word, three staccato beats, hands on her knees, rearing forward. “How can you still not get it? I DON’T WANT HIM BACK! Not now, not ever, not if he was the last man on earth!” Collapsing back into her seat, she said, “Besides, I already showed him what he was missing out on and it didn’t make any difference.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We had sex. Right there,” she said, pointing, “like animals, on the kitchen floor.”

  “Katherine!”

  “Oh, please. As if that wasn’t part of your plan. Or his plan, more to the point. He really played you on that one, Mum. Anyway, we fucked, and then a few days later I discovered he was still with her, so a fat lot of good it did. At least now I know not to listen to your advice anymore.”

  “Really, Kate, there’s no need to be so vulgar. Carry on like that and Corbin will pick up on it. Is that what you want?”

  She stared at her mother. Not for the first time, she wondered how they could be related, how she could possibly have sprung from Elizabeth’s Victorian womb, whether she’d been swapped at birth and somewhere out there in the world was her real mother — kind, understanding, human. “You think that’s vulgar? You’re going to love this, then. The reason Evan is having problems with his girlfriend is because she walked in on us, naked in bed together, after a night of passionate lovemaking.”

  “Oh, Kate, you didn’t!”

  “Oh, yes we did. And it was great! Well, actually, I’m not sure if it was great or not — I was drunk and can’t remember much. But it might have been great, and anyway, I’ve no regrets.” She shot a wicked smile at her mother, willing her to take offence.

  Elizabeth obliged, eyes boggling. “How could you be so reckless? Where was Corbin?”

  The smile disappeared. Okay, so one regret. “With the father you’re so keen for him to be with. And his girlfriend, who according to Lawrence is doing a great job of replacing me as Corbin’s mother.”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth as if to say something, but then shut it again. She stood, shaking her head. Eyes on her daughter, unblinking, she said, “Come, Malcolm, I think we’d better get going. It’s a long drive back to Dunedin.”

  FORTY-THREE

  Kate trudged up the path to Lawrence’s cottage, Corbin’s hand in hers and butterflies in her stomach. Lawrence had phoned earlier in the day to ask if she could drop Corbin off, and as much as she was reluctant to enter his territory, neither did she want to make a fuss about it. If they were going to co-parent successfully she would need to make compromises. She might loathe him, now more than ever, but she had to put that aside for the sake of Corbin.

  Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. A moment later it opened, revealing not Lawrence, but her, slim and smiling, angled artfully against the door jamb, light spilling from behind her back.

  “Oh, hello,” Rachel cooed, her smile growing, revealing a battery of gleaming teeth. She crouched down. “Hi, Corbin, how are you?” she said, her voice fluid and sickly sweet, like golden syrup laced with icing sugar.

  Corbin beamed back at her.

  Kate’s heart skipped a beat. Up close and in person, Rachel was even more beautiful than she’d looked in the photos Kate had seen, both in the Coronet Peak image and the gallery she’d stumbled across on Lawrence’s computer that had first alerted her to his infidelities — the two of them frolicking half-naked on the beach at Surfers Paradise. Olive-skinned and bright-eyed, with sleek, dark-brown hair that tumbled over her shoulders, Rachel had smothered her lips in glossy crimson lipstick and wore black tights and a long-sleeved, knee-length black dress dotted with floral rosettes — so cute it made Kate want to vomit. She couldn’t have been a day over twenty-five and Kate felt old.

  “Wh-where’s Lawrence?” Kate stammered.

  “He’s just popped out to the supermarket. He’ll be back soon.” Rachel stood and held out her hand. “I’m Rachel. It’s nice to finally meet you. Larry’s told me so much about you.”

  Kate didn’t take the proffered hand. Larry? Lawrence hates being called Larry. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting… when he called earlier he didn’t say anything.”

  Rachel dropped her hand but continued to smile. “He didn’t know. I wanted to surprise him.” Beckoning to Kate, she said, “Come in — he won’t be long. I’ll put the kettle on.”

  “No, thanks.”

  The smile disappeared and Rachel narrowed her eyes. “Please, it’s much warmer inside. Come on, Corbin.” She reached for Corbin’s free hand.

  “Don’t!” Kate exclaimed, stepping back and pulling Corbin with her.

  Rachel stared at her. “Look, Kate, I know this must be a bit of a shock, but if you won’t come inside then just leave Corbin with me. I’ll tell Larry to phone you when he gets back.”

  Kate shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m not leaving Corbin alone with a stranger.”

  Rachel snorted. “Please, I’m hardly a stranger. Corbin and I are good friends, aren’t we?” she said, her voice rising into a lilt, head bobbing at Corbin. “Anyway, you need to get used to it because we’re going to be seeing a lot more of each other from now on.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Hasn’t Larry told you?”

  “No, Lawrence hasn’t told me anything. What are you talking about?”

  “I’m moving in. This place is a little small, and it needs a security upgrade,” she said pointedly, “but it’ll do, until we find something bigger.”

  Kate went pale, feeling vertiginous, as though the earth had collapsed in front of her and she was standing on the edge of a cliff. She ha
d to force her next words out, in a kind of strangled croak. “You’re… you’re moving in? But what about your job? Don’t you live in…”

  Rachel finished the sentence for her. “Christchurch, yes. I’ve given notice. I’m going to work in Larry’s office.”

  Her chest tight, the air suddenly thinner than before, Kate sucked in a breath. “You’re going to live and work together? Is that a good idea?”

  Rachel smiled again, a dreamy look flowing over her face. “Perhaps not. But what can you do?” She shrugged. “We’re in love.”

  It was Kate’s turn to snort. “In love? Don’t make me laugh. I’m sorry, but did Lawrence not tell you what happened the other weekend? You know, the bit about us having sex? On the floor. In my kitchen.”

  Rachel’s expression grew serious. She might have been frowning, but Kate found it hard to tell since the skin on her forehead remained perfectly smooth.

  “He told me,” Rachel said quietly. “It’s a tough thing, deciding to leave your wife. He was feeling guilty and confused — there were always going to be hiccups. I don’t blame him. In fact,” she said, a thin smile snaking across her lips, “if anything, it cemented his decision. He felt so terrible afterwards he knew he wanted to commit fully to me.”

  Kate gawked at Rachel, too shocked to speak. Just then the crunch of gravel alerted her to the approach of a car. As it rounded the bend in the driveway she saw that it was Lawrence, driving the green hatchback she’d seen on Tuesday.

  He parked and got out, strolling down the pathway, a plastic shopping bag in each hand. “Hello, Kate,” he said, smiling. “I see you’ve met Rachel.”

  Kate nodded helplessly and he pushed past her to place a gentle peck on Rachel’s cheek.

  “Daddy,” said Corbin, pulling on Kate’s hand.

  Lawrence lowered the bags onto the step, then squatted and extended his arms. “Hey, buddy,” he said. “How’s it going?”

  Corbin’s tugging became more insistent. Looking up at Kate with a quizzical expression, he said, “Let go, Mummy.”

  She didn’t. Instead her hand clasped tighter around his, using him for support, as though he could stop her from falling over the cliff’s edge.

  Lawrence stood, frowning at her. “Is there a problem?”

  “Kate didn’t want to leave Corbin with a stranger,” said Rachel, her tone reminding Kate of a child complaining to a parent about a naughty sibling.

  Lawrence laughed. “You’re hardly a stranger.”

  “That’s what I told her.”

  “Come on, Kate, it’s fine — you can let him go.”

  Kate wobbled, her legs like jelly, and for a second she thought she’d have to sit down before she fell down. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to focus. After a moment, she opened them, finding her voice again. “This is a bit of a surprise, is all. Rachel,” she rasped, the name scraping over her tongue like sandpaper, “tells me you’re moving in together.”

  Lawrence and Rachel looked at each other, grinning, and Kate’s nausea deepened.

  Lawrence turned back to Kate. “That’s right.”

  “Daddeee!” whined Corbin.

  Kate pulled him closer, stroking his hair. “And that doesn’t seem a little… oh, I don’t know… premature?”

  Lawrence’s eyes narrowed. “No. I’m sorry, Kate, I know this is difficult for you, but Rachel and I are in love.” He took Rachel’s hand, gently squeezing it. “You’re just going to have to get used to it, I’m afraid.”

  The cliff fell away and she dropped into space, letting go of Corbin’s hand. He ran to Lawrence, who scooped him up, hugging him tight, then shifted him to his hip. Still falling, she was struck by how good the three of them looked together, the perfect young family, like an image from a shopping catalogue — Rachel in her cute dress, Lawrence looking smart in leather dress shoes, black chinos and a black overcoat, and Corbin stylish and streetwise in sneakers, stonewashed jeans and a navy-blue puffer jacket, their expressions bright and crisp in the orange glow of the setting sun.

  She thought she might cry, an empty hole growing in her stomach, but then Tracy’s nasally voice came echoing from the recesses of her brain. Once a cheater, always a cheater… eater… eater… She looked at Rachel, fresh-faced and innocent, her curving lips stretched and shaped into a beatific smile. As the echo faded, she considered Rachel’s blithe acceptance of Lawrence’s ‘hiccup’, and the hole in her gut subsided, morphing into something else, curious and spiky — a mix of feeling sorry for Rachel and wanting to punch her in the teeth.

  “It’ll be nice for Corbin to have a stable environment when he’s here,” said Lawrence. “A motherly touch.”

  “I’m his mother.”

  “Stepmotherly then. You know what I mean.”

  Do I? The word sounded wrong to her ears, a meaningless, mashed-up hybrid. She’s barely out of adolescence herself — what does she know of being a mother? Kate looked from Lawrence to Corbin to Rachel and back again, then shook her head. Her insides were swirling, but there could be no processing of her feelings here in the storm’s eye.

  She stepped forward, bending to give Corbin a kiss. “Bye-bye, darling. See you on Sunday.”

  “Bye, Mummy.”

  She smiled and stroked his cheek, then turned and walked to her car. Looking over her shoulder as she opened the door, she saw Lawrence and Rachel were still standing on the doorstep, their expressions solemn, with Corbin at their feet waving vigorously. She waved back, got in and drove away.

  She floated through the streets, vision blurring, barely aware of what she was doing. Outside the high school something stepped onto the zebra crossing. She saw it, a dark smudge in the corner of her eye, and slammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt. The it jumped back, shape-shifting into the form of Kendall Rodgers, who then gave her the fingers, hurling obscenities through the windscreen. With a parting curse he skulked away, and Kate crept onwards, her heart thumping, through the crossing and then pulled over.

  She slumped forward, a rag-doll, resting her head on the steering wheel. A sliding hand depressed the horn and she sprang back as the blare burst through her funk, shocking her to attention. She concentrated on her breathing. Inhale… exhale… inhale… exhale… After a while she felt calmer — her heartbeat approaching normal, her mind clear.

  Taking her handbag from the passenger seat, she searched through the detritus for her cellphone, then dialled Evan’s number. After a few rings he answered.

  “Hi… Kate?” There was an odd gap between the words, his voice muffled.

  “Hello, Evan. What are you doing?” What am I doing?

  “Ahh… nothing much.” The words came slowly, trembling, like he was speaking through jelly.

  “Are you at home?” she asked, frowning.

  “Yeah… why?”

  She paused, giving her mind the chance to back out from its chosen course of action. When it didn’t, she shrugged to herself and forged ahead. “Listen, don’t go anywhere, okay? I’m coming over. I’ve decided to talk to Yumiko after all.”

  FORTY-FOUR

  “Kate!” Evan beamed at her from the doorway. “How’sha drive over?” He wrapped her in a hug before she had the chance to answer, her nostrils assaulted by the pungent stench of alcohol.

  “Oh, God, are you drunk?” she asked, squirming.

  “Yep.” Evan nodded happily. Oblivious to her wriggling, he held her a moment longer before releasing his embrace, guiding her inside with a hand on her back.

  “What have you been drinking?”

  “Vodka and cranberry juish,” he slurred, closing the door.

  “Really? That's a girls’ drink, you know.”

  A wet curl had fallen in front of his eyes and he scowled at it, going cross-eyed, then shook himself like a dog after a swim. Brushing the curl away, he said defensively, “So what if it is?”

  “I just didn’t pick you as the vodka-cranberry type,” she said, appraising him with a smile. “Where’re your pants?�
�

  Looking down, Evan seemed surprised to discover he wasn’t wearing any. He was half-dressed in a blue thermal T-shirt, white socks, and black-and-grey striped boxer briefs. The T-shirt was fitting, the sleeves short, revealing the gentle bulge of his biceps. His briefs revealed the gentle bulge of a different muscle.

  “I dunno,” he said, brow furrowed.

  “Please find them,” she said, waving him away.

  He nodded in accedence and disappeared into the bedroom.

  Sniffing, she saw Evan’s clothes were arranged on a drying rack in front of the heater, the smell of damp socks permeating the air. She spied a vodka bottle and carton of cranberry juice open on the counter and decided to make herself a drink. Evan returned from the bedroom, sans pants, as she was looking for a glass.

  “They weren’t there,” he muttered, shuffling into the bathroom. “A-ha, here they are!”

  Unable to find a glass in the cupboards, she took one from the pile of dishes in the sink and gave it a rinse. She inspected the tea towel hanging on the handle of the oven door, wrinkled her nose in disgust and splashed vodka into the wet glass. “Do you have any ice?”

  “Freezer,” called Evan from the bathroom.

  She found a depleted tray of ice and cracked the remaining cubes into her drink, following with cranberry juice. There was a thud and the bathroom door slammed shut, a loud grunt coming from the other side, causing her to slop juice over the side of her glass. This was followed by more grunting and a muffled, scraping sound, the door rattling in its hinges. A moment later the door flew open and Evan stood framed in the doorway, wearing a pair of tight, dark-blue jeans and flashing a triumphant grin.

  “That better?” he asked.

  “Much,” she said.

  “M’legs seem to have a mind of their own tonight.” Evan picked up his own half-empty glass and took a slug, halving the contents again.

  “That’s because you’re drunk.”

  He cocked his head and pursed his lips as though the suggestion was a controversial one. “Could be.” He took another drink, another halving, his consumption following an asymptotic curve. “How’s Corbin?”