Just Not Mine (3 page)

“Hugh.”

The woman was calling to him, and he smiled in his sleep, rolled over, and reached for her.

“Hugh.”
The shove on his shoulder wasn’t amorous, and neither was the voice. “Wake up.”

“Huh?” He woke up hugging the pillow,
rolled to his back and shoved himself up onto his elbows, blinking.

His sister was standing there, hands on her hips, and he could swear her toe was tapping.

“Wake up,” she said again. “It’s morning.”

“
Oh. Right.” He ran a hand over his jaw and yawned. He’d been up at four the previous morning to give Aunt Cora a lift to the airport, had been seriously drooping after his workout and visit to the physio at midday, had done the washing-up in a fog after a dinner cobbled together from the remnants of the previous evening’s meal, and then had once again been unable to fall asleep when he’d finally crawled into bed. Now, his body was telling him in no uncertain terms that it needed rest, but it looked like it wasn’t happening. Again. He normally slept until seven-thirty, but it looked like that had changed.

“
You’re supposed to get up before us,” Amelia informed him. “You’re meant to be waking
us.
Besides, children who eat breakfast with their families achieve better results in school. We need a committed parental figure providing a positive role model.”

He squinted at her.
“How do you know?”

“Becaus
e I watch television, of course.”

“All right. I’m up. Providing a positive role model.” When she c
ontinued to stand there, he added with exasperation, “If you’d leave, that is, so I can get dressed.”

“Fine,”
she said, and stalked towards the door. “We’ll be in the kitchen, eating cereal. Since nobody was available to cook our breakfast.”

“
Could’ve made toast, anyway, couldn’t you,” he muttered as he fumbled to pull his shorts and T-shirt on with one hand.

“Right, then,” he said when he’d got himself sorted, had padded barefoot into the kitchen. He flipped the
switch on the electric jug, because coffee was definitely required. “Here I am. What’s this role model meant to do?”

Charlie looked at Amelia and shrugged.
They were both in their uniforms, eating cereal. He didn’t appear all that necessary to their progress, in his opinion.

“What does Aunt Cora do in the morning, be
sides make your breakfast?” he clarified. “Which you could do as well as I can, Amelia. Better. You’ve got two hands. Can’t you fry an egg?”

“No,” she said. “Aunt Cora always did
.”

“Well, time you learnt,” he said. “We’ll do it together tomorro
w, how’s that. I’ll show you, both of you, for that matter, then we can take turns. How’s that for role modeling? Not what you had in mind, is it? Hah.”

He got out the bag of coffee, pulled the plunger down
from the cabinet, and did his best to hold the bag open with the fingers poking out from the cast on his left hand while dipping the spoon in with his right. He managed it, but not without a fair few grounds spilling onto the bench on their way into the glass carafe. Teamwork was the only way this was going to happen, he decided, because he was halfway to useless just now.

When he’d got the coffee made and taken his first grateful sip,
he sat at the table with the kids, watched them working their way through their Weet-Bix, and said, “All right. What else? If Aunt Cora were here, what would she be doing?” He should know, because he’d been around sometimes while she’d been doing it, but he’d never paid that much attention.

“Umm
…” Charlie said. “Checking if we have our lunches made, and our homework.”

“Well, do you have your homework?”

Charlie shrugged. “I dunno. That’s why she checks.”

“What else? What else does she do?”
Hugh amended when Charlie looked at him blankly.

“
Ask us about what happens after school today?” His brother looked questioningly at Amelia, and she nodded.

“So what happens?” Hugh prompted.

“I have rugby,” Charlie said.

“I have diving,” Amelia
said.

“And? What am I meant to do about those things?
You just come home later on the bus, right, Amelia?

“Yeh,” she said. “But you need to know anyway. You’re supposed to
care.
You’re supposed to
ask.”

“
Asking right now, aren’t I. So what about you, Charlie? Just over at the rugby field, right? You’d walk. So, again, where do I come into it?”

Charlie shrugged. “Dunno. Make sure I go, I guess.”

“Are you likely not to go?”

Char
lie considered. “I guess … you stand there and say, ‘D’you have your mouth guard and your water bottle, Charlie? And where did you leave your boots?’ Like that.”

“Well, that sounds efficient,” Hugh said.
“Think we can do better than that. I keep my kit in its bag so I know where it is. Why not just do that?”

Charlie put his head on one side. “I could. I s’pose.”

“Course you could. Go do it now, soon as you’ve finished your brekkie.”

“But you’ll still be here when he comes home from school, right?” Amelia asked. “You
have to be here. He’s too little to be home alone.”

“I’m
not,”
Charlie protested.

Amelia ignored him. “
Girls who grow up without a father in their lives are more likely to fall pregnant,” she told Hugh. “And boys are more likely to join gangs.”

“
You planning on falling pregnant? You’re twelve.”

“Twelve-year-olds can be pregnant,” she insisted. “I saw a program about it.”

“Well, I’ll watch out for that, then. And what kind of gang is Charlie meant to join? The gang of eight-year-old schoolboys? Not sure I’d cross the street in fear.”

She
heaved a mighty sigh and rolled her eyes. “Not
now.
Later. You’re laying a foundation for our lives. We’re orphans, you know. We need a—“

“A role model,” Hugh finished.
“What was Aunt Cora, then? You’d think from the sound of you that you’ve both been begging in the gutter somewhere.”

“You
asked,”
Amelia said. “What you were meant to do. I’m just telling you.”

“
And now I’m telling
you.
We’re going to sit down together this weekend and make a timetable, so we all know what you’re meant to do, not just me. We’ll post it on the fridge, and we’ll post a list for the two of you as well, so you can check the night before for homework, whatever else you need to remember, get it sorted then. If I’m your role model, we’ll do it the way I do. When I get to training every day, there’s a sheet of paper posted with my workout, and I follow it. Nobody’s trailing around after me seeing that I do it, and I don’t see why I should trail around after you.”

“We’re
children,”
Amelia said.

“Yeh, well, you’re not babies, are you
. We’ve got three months here, and if we’re going to get through them, you’re going to have to give me some help, take some responsibility.” He looked at each of them in turn. “Charlie?”

“OK,” he said,
looking down again, his face closed. Hugh hadn’t meant to scare him, and he smiled, although Charlie wasn’t looking, tried to soften his tone.

“Good,” he told his brother, and looked to Amelia. “How about you?”

She sighed in martyred acceptance. “I guess. It’s not how a mum would do it, though.”

“It’s how my mum did it,” Hugh realized. “More or less. And it’s the only way I know. Take it or leave it.”

“All
right,”
she said. “I
get
it.
Geez.”

Hugh leant against the railing of
Koti James’s expansive deck a couple blocks back from the beach in Takapuna, where he, Nic Wilkinson, and Hemi Ranapia were “helping” their teammate with a Saturday-night barbecue. Which actually meant drinking beer and watching Koti barbecue, but supervision counted.

At l
east somebody else was cooking. They’d been OK on Thursday, because there’d still been some steak and salad in the fridge, some kumara in the pantry, and he’d fixed those, since that was about his skill level in the kitchen. But on Friday, when Amelia and Hugh’s own stomach had reminded him that it was dinnertime, he’d been confronted by a pretty limited offering.

“How is there nothing left?” he asked in frustration. “There’s not even any bread and cheese in here. And I thought there was some ham.” He’d had lunch out after
his visit to the physio, hadn’t looked until now.

“We took it for lunch,” Amelia said.
“Didn’t you shop?”

“No,” he said, only a little sarcastically. “
Obviously, I didn’t.”

She sighed. “You have to
shop,
Hugh.”

He could see that. And that he’d have to think about what they were having for dinner before it was actually
time
for dinner, too. It was quite a bit different from keeping his fridge stocked for himself, and one hell of a lot different from having Aunt Cora keep it stocked for all of them. He’d ended up taking the kids to the pub for dinner, and this morning, he’d taken them to New World.

“Why do we have to come?” Amelia had asked. “
I want to go to Pippa’s house. We’re working on a project for school.”

“
You’ll have to go later,” Hugh said. “Right now, we’re buying groceries, and you two are helping, no arguments. Because,” he’d amended, seeing Charlie’s face, “you know what you want to take for lunch, what we’re out of. Another list. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, what do we need?” He sat back down at the table. “Come on and help me make it.”

So that had been
not too bad, though he’d got home and realized they were out of coffee, and nearly out of eggs as well, and had had to go straight back again. He was glad to have been invited to dinner tonight, and even gladder that he’d been able to bring the kids, because he didn’t know what he’d have done with them otherwise.

“I don’t have a babysitter,” he
’d told Koti when the other man had invited him a couple days earlier.

“Do you need a babysitter?”

“I do now. Alone with my brother and sister for a bit.”

“No worries. Bring them along. Heaps of kids. Your two’ll make nine all told
, counting the babies. I’ll get an extra pizza, and we’re all good.”

Hugh had accepted gratefully, and C
harlie and Amelia had been borne off into the nether regions of Koti’s house by Ariana, Hemi and Reka’s eldest, with a proprietorial air that suggested Amelia might have met her match.

“Whoa. New blood. Nobody told me there were
going to be so many big fellas,” Nic said now as Will Tawera, 1.95 meters of hard-kicking, hard-tackling No. 10, came through the ranch sliders onto the deck together with Finn Douglas.

Hugh offered a
handshake and a word of welcome to Will, the Blues’ much-hoped-for new acquisition from the Queensland Reds, here in Auckland to discuss a deal for the following season. Hugh meant to do his bit to woo him, because they needed Will. The loss of Hemi this year at first-five, the critical No. 10 position that provided a team with its on-field general, had been a blow from which the Blues hadn’t yet recovered. The addition of Will, along with Hugh’s own ongoing help in shoring up the forward pack and providing a bit of leadership to a young squad, could make next season look a much brighter prospect.

He
could see what Nic had been talking about, too. Will was one of the good-sized breed of 10, and there was even more of Finn than there was of Will. The deck was suddenly looking a bit crowded with rugby muscle.

“Speak for yourself, Nico,” Koti said. “The rest of us aren’t intimidated by a couple of blokes with a glandular disorder and a suspicious slope to their foreheads. Just because you’re such a scrawny fella.”

“I am not scrawny,” Nic said. “I am a lithe and nimble fullback. Bashing it up the guts may be the only way a muscle-bound centre like you knows how to do it, to say nothing of the forwards, but those of us with more finesse can pick our routes with a bit more brainpower.
And
I’ve got the best boot here, I’ll just point out. Barring Hemi, of course. Wouldn’t want to go up against you even now,” he told his former No. 10.

“
Nah,” Hemi said. “I’m retired. I don’t have to prove it anymore. I’ve earned the luxury of sitting back and criticizing.”

“
Cheers, Nico,” Will complained. “You mean the best boot except Hemi and me.”

“
Oh, yeh?” Nic said with a grin. “You want a competition for that goal-kicking spot, you know what you need to do.”

“
No argument from me either way,” Finn said. “Because my kicking’s always been shocking. And I’m not a forward anymore, am I, slope to my forehead or otherwise. My job now is cracking the whip on you lazy buggers, and I do my best to be an equal-opportunity taskmaster. How’s your head, Koti, by the way?”

“You know,” Koti shrugged. “Getting there. Be ready to get stuck in when training starts up again, and I’ll be on the Tour, no worries. But first, family time.
You bring the kids?”

“Yeh. Jenna took them on back to find the pizza. I
should warn you, Nico, Harry’s got a big Lego book with him he wanted to share with Zack.”

Nic
groaned. “Exactly what he doesn’t need to see. Going to break me. He can hardly find a path to his bed as it is.”

“
How the mighty have fallen, eh, Koti,” Will told his host. “Your entertaining style’s a bit of a change from the old days.” They’d been teammates when Koti had been with the Chiefs, Hugh remembered, and yeh, he could recall a few parties back in the day, after the Hurricanes had played the Chiefs. Both Will and Koti probably had an incident or two they were just as glad had never hit the press.

“Shh,”
Koti said with a laugh. “We don’t talk about that anymore.” He pointed with his tongs to the chilly bin filled with ice, then returned to the huge barbecue, turned over hefty chunks of chicken, added thick rounds of tender eye fillet.

“
Does everybody here have kids?” Will asked, helping himself to a beer. “Because I’m getting a bad feeling about this party.”

Hugh could relate. He’d been to the odd barbecue or picnic before with the vague knowledge that his teammates’ kids were somewhere about the place, but he’d never paid
any more attention than that. He felt like he was sitting at the parents’ table, and he wasn’t at all sure he liked it.

“
Pretty much,” Koti said. “I asked some of the single boys along tonight, but they realized how family-friendly it’d be, decided on a piss-up instead, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Don’t say that,” Nic
said. “First you invite the conditioning coach, then you tell him about everyone’s plans to get out of condition, not to mention having him eyeing us the whole time, counting the beers?”

“If I’m drinking along with you, you’re safe,” Finn said, popping the top on a Monteith’s Black. “And I’m not concerned about the others, not tonight. What I don’t know, I can’t patrol. I don’t have to worry about Hemi anymore, either. He can get pissed, get fat too for all I care.”

“
Yeh, but I answer to a higher power,” Hemi said.

“Didn’t realize you
were that religious,” Will said.

Hemi smiled. “Not the higher power I had in mind.”

“Ah.” Will looked a bit mystified still, but the other men laughed.

“Anyway,” Finn said,
“we’re all on holiday. Except maybe Hemi. Cheers.” He drained what looked like a good third of the bottle, to Hugh’s practiced eye. Well, they said there wasn’t enough beer in the world to make a loose forward tight, especially not one the size of Finn.

“Where did you say th
is other party was?” Will asked, a comical expression on his handsome face. “The one without supervision, and with single people?”

“I’m a single person,” Hugh pointed out.

“Yeh, well, you’re not the exact type of
single person I had in mind.”

“
You just need to get married, Will,” Koti said. “Then you’d have the right kind of somebody to bring along, and fewer decisions to make as well.”

“I heard that.”
His wife Kate, a pretty brunette with a personality as large as her frame was tiny, came out onto the deck.

“
Close to done here,” Koti said. “Everything moving along in there?”

“
Are you kidding? What little Reka allowed me to do, I turned over to Jenna the moment she arrived. Couple minutes. We’ll give you a shout when we’re ready.”

She headed back inside, and Will watched her go. “
Don’t think being married would suit me,” he said. “Maybe in ten years or so. When I’m elderly, like certain formerly loose forwards I could name.” He gave his prospective conditioning coach a cheeky grin that made Hugh suspect Finn would be setting him right in the gym before very long at all. “Having too good a time right now, and one woman for the rest of my life? Nah. Can’t see it. And kids—I’m
really
not ready for that.”

Finn leaned against the deck rail, lifted his beer bottle to Hugh.
“Speaking of kids, how ya going with yours, Hugh? Jenna was asking.”

“Didn’t know you had kids,” Will said. “Plural kids?”

“My brother and sister,” Hugh said. “Back there.” He gestured with his own bottle.

“Oh. I thought you meant they were yours,” Will said.

“My father and stepmother died a year or so back,” Hugh explained, “so I’m living there right now. They’re my half-sister and brother, actually.”

“
That’s rough,” Will said.

“
Not so bad. It does put a crimp in the dating life, though. I like fast women, that’s my problem. They used to like me, too,” he said with a reminiscent sigh. “But you ought to see them run in the opposite direction now, when they find out. You know that thing when you go out with someone, and you can tell she’s sizing you up as the future father of her children?”

“If they are, I’m looking the other way,” Will laughed.

“Or they may just not want your dodgy genes in their pool,” Hugh suggested with a grin of his own. “But what’s worse than that is when you can tell they
don’t
want anything to do with the kids you actually do have around.”

“
May be time to consider a slow woman instead,” Finn said. “That little thing called getting to know somebody first? She may even like the kids, you never know.”

“
Think that’d work?” Hugh asked. “Get one of those sweet, motherly ones, one who wants to be home with kids who aren’t hers half the time while I travel, who wants to make those home-cooked meals? And still look good, of course. That’s the tricky bit.”

“
A hot babe who’s going to want to take care of you and a couple of kids who aren’t hers into the bargain, let you shove them off on her?” Will asked. “That’s a pretty sketch plan you’ve got.”

Hugh
didn’t answer, because he’d got rattled at realizing he’d just described Finn’s wife, and that the other man was looking a bit grim. Finn grim wasn’t a sight he’d ever relished on the paddock when he’d been playing against him, and he wasn’t enjoying the sight of it now.

And then it got worse, because
he heard a small voice at his elbow. “’Scuse me.”

He turned to
see Charlie, and his brother’s thin face didn’t look happy at all.

“How long hav
e you been standing there?” Hugh asked him. “What did you hear?”

Charlie shrugged. “Dunno.”

Hugh closed his eyes for a second.
Shit.
“Something wrong back there?” he asked. “Need something?”

“
That baby’s crying,” Charlie said. “In its room. I thought I should say.”

“Which one?” Hemi asked.

Koti had a look at the box set up on the table. Some kind of monitor, Hugh guessed, because it was flashing red. “Whoops. Falling down on the job, aren’t I.” He handed the tongs to Finn. “Finish this meat, will you? I’ll go check.”

“So
, Charlie,” Finn said, turning steaks with a practiced hand. “Think your brother should get married?” Tackling the problem the same way he tackled everything, Hugh realized. Head-on.

“Yeh,” Charlie said with decision.

“Got any candidates in mind?” Finn asked. “That can be the best way,” he informed Hugh. “Get the experts’ opinion. May not be who you’re thinking.”

“He should marry Josie,” Charlie said. “
She’d be the best.”