‘Louisa, this poor chap doesn’t need you slobbering all over him,’ she said. As Louisa turned, the man, who Erica now realised was very young, raced to the safety of the other end of his counter.
Erica waited a little distance away so as not to cause the poor guy another round of angst over lecherous older women until Louisa had flipped her hair defiantly – as if claiming victory – and sauntered off to her own area. Erica was annoyed she didn’t appear at all contrite or chastised. Was her desire to capture a man – any man – so strong that she had no concept of either personal space or body language? Well, Erica knew she was overly confident all round, but she hadn’t thought it stretched to blatantly predatory behaviour. Jesus.
‘Are you okay?’ Erica said to the visibly shaken youth. He nodded in return. She longed to put a reassuring hand over one of his clutching the edge of the glass counter so tightly his knuckles were white, but didn’t dare. His cheeks were big red welts.
‘God,’ he finally uttered. ‘Jesus, she’s full-on, isn’t she?’ He appeared to try to laugh but it came out as more like a choking gasp.
‘That’s one way of putting it,’ Erica said with a warm but wry smile. She wanted to say, ‘She’s harmless,’ but was suddenly not sure Louisa was. And, anyway, it was a patronising and ableist thing to say. Women had had to put up with that BS for forever. He just likes you. Or whatever. Feeling unsafe because of the actions of someone else was not okay. Full stop. ‘I’m Erica,’ she said, stretching her hand out over the counter.
‘Tyler,’ he said, nodding and accepting her hand in a clumsy loose grip.
‘If you want to report it – Louisa, that’s her name – I’d be happy to back you up. I saw her harassing you.’
‘Oh. Thanks. But …’ He shrugged.
‘It’s up to you. The offer’s there,’ Erica said.
‘I just hope I haven’t made an enemy of her,’ he said. ‘I really need this job.’
‘Fortunately, or unfortunately, whichever way you want to look at it, she has a thick skin, so I’m sure you’re fine on that score.’ Erica wanted to say Louisa had no authority, but she didn’t know if that was true or not either. And her next thought – Oh, she’ll move onto someone else soon enough – was totally inappropriate and not at all comforting no matter which way you looked at it, either. ‘Okay, if you’re sure you’re okay, I’d better get back,’ she said.
‘Yes. Thanks. Fine. It was just a bit of a shock. One should be flattered, I suppose,’ Tyler said, his cheeks starting to lose their strong colour.
Erica smiled warmly and returned to her counter. A part of her wanted to tell Louisa off, but it wasn’t her place. And she didn’t like to get involved in workplace politics and general goings-on. It was probably why she didn’t have any close work friends. But she could live with that – just the snippets she caught along the way and the times colleagues tried to draw her in were enough. Having had a husband battle cancer and die put a lot of stuff into a different perspective. Sometimes she did envy the seemingly carefree lives in which David Jones ground-floor shenanigans could have such importance.
Despite having been distracted, and enjoying the routine of her counter and job, Erica still felt the tug of desire to be home. Looking around a few times she suddenly didn’t like how exposed she was. She’d never really thought about it and wasn’t sure why she had now, but there was nothing to stop someone assaulting any of them. Yes, there were lots of people around, but when it came to the crunch, how many would step in and assist anyone? And there were very few security staff to cover such a large area. Now the bright lights reflecting off the white tiles and the mirrors, glass and steel all felt suddenly very unfriendly. She’d always enjoyed the clean crisp look, the professional space. Now it seemed different. Why am I being like this? she thought. Renee might suggest she was finally coming out of her grief and beginning to properly see the world again. Like a caterpillar leaving its cocoon as a moth. But wouldn’t she have a brighter and more cheerful view if she was leaving the darkness for the light? Did this mean she was turning into a bitter, twisted old lady? Oh god. How she longed to be cocooned at home – not to be emerging anywhere.
Erica stood up with a start from under her counter where she was squatting and checking stock when a form above blocked the light.
‘Oh. Matt. Hello.’ Erica tried to stop herself putting a hand to her chest, but failed. ‘Golly. You startled me,’ she said with a tight laugh, and shook her nervousness aside. God, what is with you? ‘Sorry, how can I help you?’ And then softer, because her tone had been harsh, ‘Anyone would think you’re stalking me.’
‘Oh. God. No. Yeah, Sorry. Shit. I can see how Colour rushed up his neck.
‘I was only kidding,’ Erica said, straightening up and smiling. Calmer now. Back to her usual self. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. Actually, I thought I saw Kayla the other day near my supermarket.’
‘Oh? Where’s that?’
The slightly higher pitch to his voice caught her attention.
‘Burnside.’
‘No. We live way down south – pretty much the end of the earth in terms of getting into the city. They do say we’ve all got a doppelganger or two or three out there, don’t they?’ he said, waving a hand.
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I called out, but … Anyway, what’s up? Oh, how was your date?’
‘My date?’
‘With Kayla.’
‘Huh?’
‘Yes, last week. She came in and got her makeup done. I’m sure she said she was …’ Erica shut her mouth. For some reason Kayla had lied.
‘Really? She cooked me dinner. Oh shit. I didn’t realise it was a date,’ he said. His face started turning a shade of beetroot before her eyes. And then the colour quickly drained away again. ‘She got her makeup done? Really?’
‘Yep.’
‘Oh god. I didn’t notice. I’m an idiot. I didn’t realise she liked me. Well, not like …’
‘But I thought you were an item – as in living together.’
‘No. Well, yes. Sort of. We live together, yes, but in separate rooms. We’re housemates with two others.’
‘Well, I did get the distinct impression she’s looking to take it to the next, or another, different level,’ Erica said gently.
‘Oh god.’ He rubbed his hands over his face.
‘I take it you’re not on the same page with that, then?’
‘Nope. Not even in the same chapter,’ he said, cringing. ‘That sort of explains … Oh fuck. Oops, sorry,’ he added.
‘It’s okay, don’t mind me,’ Erica said, now the one to wave a hand dismissively.
‘We actually got into a huge fight. That night. Over you, actually,’ he said, cringing and looking sheepish.
‘What?’ This time it was Erica’s turn to go red. ‘Um, me? But I’m …’ Nearly old enough to be your mother. A tiny, tiny, tiny part of her was flattered, but knew she had to nip this crush – or whatever it was – in the bud. ‘Look, I’m –’
‘Oh god. Sorry. Oh crap. No, not like that!’ His face and neck were now the colour of the nearby mid-season sale signage all around them. ‘I took your advice and told Mum and Dad how much I want to pursue a career in film. And they’ve agreed to help pay for me to go to Sydney to do the course I want. I’m so excited.’
‘That’s great news.’
‘It is, it’s totally awesome.’
‘But …?’ Erica prompted when his emotion didn’t seem to match his words.
‘It’s Kayla. I thought she’d be happy for me – she’s one of my best friends.’
Oh, poor deluded Kayla, Erica thought. And Matt.
‘But she was pissed. Sorry. Anyway, she accused me of being obsessed with you. Which I’m not. Please don’t think I’m … I just came by to say how grateful I am to you for helping me see what I needed to do.’
‘I didn’t really do anything, Matt.’
‘But you did. You didn’t dismiss it as being a pipedream or so
mething that boys, men, don’t do. Like my parents did the first time I told them.’
‘But plenty of men do hair and makeup. Sorry, not helpful. Not the point.’
‘Anyway, thanks.’
‘I’m not sure what I did, but you’re welcome,’ Erica said, smiling at him. ‘So, what about Kayla?’
‘What about her?’
‘Well, you might want to have a word with her about your feelings – or not – towards her.’
‘Yeah. I suppose. Why can’t we continue to be friends?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps you can.’ Erica shrugged. Though, she doubted it. A new line had been drawn in the sand. She doubted there was any coming back to what had been before now. If Kayla pretended she was okay with just friends, then at some point it would get too hard to ignore. And if Matt met someone else, well, who knew how she’d react. ‘Maybe when Kayla finishes her studies she’ll She’ll what? Erica had no idea what she was trying to say. She was drowning.
‘What studies?’
‘Psychology. Isn’t she doing psychology? I’m sure that’s what she said.’
Matt laughed. ‘Kayla doesn’t study. She doesn’t do much of anything. That’s part of the problem. Maybe. It pisses me off a bit that she gets everything handed to her on a plate.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah. And, actually, just between us, the other housemates are a bit sick of her too. But her dad owns the house we’re in.’
‘Ahh. So you can’t evict her?’ Erica said, despite not wanting to involve herself.
‘No, not really. But it’s more complicated than that. She’s not on the lease. Something about it being her dad’s property as part of his self-managed superannuation and not being allowed to rent to relatives. That’s the problem. I think.’
‘Huh? I don’t follow.’
‘I’m not sure I do, either,’ Matt said, clearly as perplexed as Erica. ‘Anyway, I just wanted to thank you and tell you I’m going to pursue the profession.’
‘Well, that’s great. Good luck with everything. I look forward to seeing you on the red carpet at the Oscars or at least in the credits of some films before too long.’
‘Fingers crossed.’
‘You won’t know unless you give it a shot,’ she said, accepting his proffered hand. She would have liked to give him a hug – it was that sort of moment – but thought better of it and waved him off instead.
As he left, she hoped the course would teach confidence or at least he’d gain it along the way. Otherwise the film industry would chew him up and spit him out quick smart. Like it did me? Well, not exactly like with me.
***
Erica turned to find Kayla at her counter. It was so soon after Matt had left that she looked around for him to be lurking somewhere nearby. She almost mentioned him and his visit but something stopped her. ‘Hi there, again. How’re things? How was your dinner date?’ It would be odd not to mention it, and she couldn’t very well commiserate without admitting she’d seen Matt, which didn’t seem the right thing to do. Kayla had the same sulky posture Erica’s girls did at the kitchen bench when they wanted to ask something that might be greeted with resistance or were about to make a confession.
‘Great. It was just perfect.’
Erica peered at her, trying not to look incredulous or disbelieving, analysing the tone for sarcasm. But there was no sign of it. Though she hadn’t really managed to catch Kayla’s eye; the girl was trying to look at everything at once, apparently unable to settle her gaze on anything.
‘That’s wonderful to hear. I’m really happy for you.’ Erica busied herself with unnecessarily rearranging her nail polishes and lipsticks in reverse colour order so she didn’t blurt out what Matt had told her.
‘Excuse me, Kayla,’ she said, looking past her and trying to not be annoyed at the continued lurking. ‘Sir, can I help you?’ she asked a man hovering behind the younger woman.
‘Um, yes, please.’ He had his phone in his hand and appeared to be reading from it. ‘Can I please have a Sultry Seductress lipstick and nail polish. Not for me. For my wife,’ he added, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other.
‘Hey, no judgment here,’ Erica said, hoping she sounded warm and friendly. ‘It’s a lovely shade,’ she said, putting both items on the counter. ‘Will there be anything else?’
‘No, thanks. That’s all,’ he said, visibly more relaxed as he slipped his phone into his pocket and brought out his wallet. He extracted a credit card with his fingertips and handed it over to Erica. She was glad Kayla had had the manners and sense to move to the end of the counter and turn her back to give him his privacy before she had to say anything.
‘Brilliant. Thanks very much,’ the man said, clutching the small carry bag Erica handed him.
‘Matt dropped by just before,’ Erica said, against her better nature, when the man had gone and Kayla seemed not at all interested in either leaving or instigating further conversation. She wanted to give the girl a chance to confide or achieve whatever it was that saw her standing there. Her expression was determined, but her stance and shuffling feet told Erica she was apprehensive.
‘Oh?’
‘He told me you had a bit of a fight,’ Erica said carefully.
‘Yeah … But it’s okay now.’
‘That’s good.’ Erica tried to stop the frown forming on her face and the words, ‘But that’s not what he said,’ slipping from between her lips. Why am I even getting involved? I’m not, I’m being friendly. The girl clearly wants or needs someone to talk to. Erica searched Kayla’s face for sign of embarrassment or deception but found neither. Had she really read the evening so differently from Matt? Erica found the intrigue building. ‘Matt said he’s going to go to Sydney to do the film makeup course.’
‘Yeah. Isn’t it great his parents are finally going to support something he really wants to do?’
‘Yes. It is. You’re not upset he’s leaving?’
‘No. I was a little thrown when he said it. But I’m happy for him. I really am.’ Kayla rubbed her eyes – had she been crying? She pulled at her sleeves.
Erica struggled to tell if she sounded genuine or was putting on a good act.
‘He’ll do great. We have to nut out all the details, but I think we’ll both go.’
‘Oh. Really?’
‘Of course.’
‘That’s fantastic, Kayla. I’m really happy for you. For you both.’ Erica wished Matt was still there. Maybe in the time since he’d left they had made up.
‘Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks – on Matt’s behalf.’ Kayla did look at her now; her eyes were red, and Erica saw a tiny sore beside the full lips.
‘There’s really nothing to thank me for. And, anyway, Matt already did.’
‘I’d better be going,’ Kayla said.
‘Okay. Bye then. All the best.’ Erica watched the girl lope off down the centre path of the ground floor thoroughfare, thinking how odd the interaction had been. And yet not all that odd. Kayla had wanted to thank her and had just been a little shy in going about it. That was all. And clearly she and Matt had mended their fractured friendship since his visit. They’d both been in the area and they were all constantly in touch on Messenger and WhatsApp and the like. That made more sense than Kayla lying to her, anyway. Why would she bother?
She smiled at thinking how quickly the young ones fired up and then simmered down again. Issy and Mackenzie erupted into World War III–level conflict one minute and the next hour were happily swapping clothes and doing each other’s nails. And it was always over a simple miscommunication or relatively minor misunderstanding. For the umpteenth time Erica wondered why she was wasting so much time on Kayla and Matt and concluded it was because she missed her girls and being a part of their lives. They were all grown up now – well, according to what she’d seen online, which was no doubt well filtered and curated – so she needed someone else to need her.
Ah the young of today; she sighed and gathered her things
to leave for the day. But as she walked to the bus, her thoughts returned to Kayla and Matt and how different their perspectives had been and how sure each had seemed. And it wasn’t just confusion about misplacing an item or spilling something on a favourite piece of clothing – which were the main origins of the wars between Issy and Mackenzie – these were bigger, real-life issues. And if Erica had to put money on one of Kayla or Matt providing the more accurate account of events, she’d put that money on Matt. She couldn’t say why if pushed; just a feeling. She pitied Kayla going to all that effort and having it largely ignored or dismissed by Matt. Worse, that she couldn’t admit it to Erica. Had she wanted to confess her heartbreak? Had she needed a shoulder to cry on? A hug? Why come to a salesperson in a department store if so? Didn’t the poor girl have anyone else she could rely on?
As she watched the shops and trees and cars flash by outside the windows of the bus, she wondered if she’d let Kayla down. If she’d had her number she might just have called. Probably best she didn’t. Kayla might be in complete denial, not looking for sympathy or a mother-figure at all. For goodness’ sake, Erica, what is it with you, you don’t even know these people!
Erica sighed to herself again, more deeply this time. Was she actually an interfering mother? She thought she’d been supportive and restrained. Maybe the girls had actually gone overseas to get away from her. Maybe all the text messages and online comments were a smokescreen. Oh, Stuart, where are you when I need you? He could be relied on to gently tell her the truth. And the girls would have confided in him. He was so good at gently sitting her down and brokering peace deals – being the messenger and somehow managing to avoid getting her ire up.
So why couldn’t you have bloody well said, ‘Darling, I need to tell you something. I’ve fucked up our finances, blah, blah, blah.’ Erica was grateful when her seat neighbour gently nudged her to reach up and push the button for the next stop, pulling her sharply from her thoughts and gathering sadness and frustration.
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