The Boys of Summer (26 page)

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend, Sean?”

Had I said that out loud?

He leaned on the counter studying me like a
bug under a microscope.

I blushed, flustered. “Sorry, that’s rude,
it’s just I don’t understand why you wouldn’t.”

He nodded. “Because of my dynamic personality
and my freakishly handsome good looks?”

“Never a serious answer with you, is
there?”

His mouth curved at the corners, and he
adjusted the serviette dispenser on the counter. “I don’t know, why
don’t you have a boyfriend?”

It was my turn to fidget under scrutiny.
“Guess I just haven’t found the right one yet.”

A moment passed between us of mutual
understanding. It was nice. It felt like I was connecting with Sean
for the first –

Mum sidled up alongside me and pretended to
look at something on the cash register. Typical Mum move. She
stared at the register with a look of fierce concentration, a scowl
that didn’t lift when she rose her gaze to Sean and held it there.
Oh my God … what had she heard?

Then I remembered that I wasn’t at the
Onslow. Any fun, harmless bantering (if not borderline flirting)
with an older boy wouldn’t be looked on kindly by my bosses
here.

How much had she seen?

“Tess, honey, why don’t you jump on the
coffee machine and fix table five some cappuccinos for me, please.
I’ll serve this young man.”

Mum handed me a docket from her apron pocket.
In other words, get away from my daughter. Yeah she’d been
listening alright.

Sean’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he
swallowed.

I would prepare myself for twenty questions
later.

I made my way towards the opposite counter
and started work on table five’s cappucinos. Funny, considering my
early fear of this apparatus, I now fancied myself quite the
barista extraordinaire. I even went so far as to make quaint little
shapes with a shake of the cocoa powder dust. No wonder my parents
looked at me suspiciously. What had I become?

After serving Sean, Mum came over all smiles,
an enigma of easy going. I knew she wasn’t feeling easy going, and
I knew what was coming next.

“So who was that?” This was just the
beginning of my interrogation. I supplied the details she could
handle, but failed to mention that Sean and his friends were a big
part of my extra-curricular activities. I also failed to mention
that Ellie was dating Stan Remington, or that Toby Morrison himself
was fixing my bike. I knew if I gave my mother too much information
she would piece it all together and draw her own conclusion.

Men-drinking-taking-advantage-teenage-pregnancy-
game
-
over
!
My parents were prone to jumping to this conclusion. I think they
were overrating my effect on the opposite sex.

So I played it down and soon she was
partially satisfied, got bored and gave up, leaving me with a
sceptical, wary ‘I’m-not-thoroughly-convinced’ look on her face as
she put table seven’s croissant in the toaster.

As November merged into December,
Christmas-party season was well underway and the Rose Café had been
booked for the local doctor’s surgery shindig on Friday. Mum and
Dad had pleaded for me to help and said they would make it
financially worth my while so I couldn’t exactly say no. Besides, I
knew how busy it was and rushed off their feet they were. It’s not
like I wasn’t going to get anything out of it: it was money and,
not to mention, sure to score me some brownie points with the
olds.

And it was just one night; what’s one night
in the grand scheme of things? I mentally chided myself any time my
heart ached about not seeing Toby. I had to stop myself from
thinking that way. He didn’t belong to me; he was well and truly
Angela’s.

Although I could have sworn there were times
when something passed between us – looks, touches, even the gaps in
conversation.

When we sat in his car at the Point that
night, I thought that maybe, just maybe, for the smallest of
moments that he felt what I felt.

Argh! I was thinking about Toby again! Maybe
a night away from the Onslow social scene would do me some good.
Let them converge on the hotel without me.

I knew Ellie would be there because when she
called me she whinged and whined incessantly about the fact I had
to work.

“But it’s Friday.” The horrified words
travelled through the phone receiver.

“I know, but I promised.”

I then used my skills of deflection and
switched the subject to Stan. Worked like a charm. Apparently, they
were going to the hotel to hang out, and then the group would head
up to the Point. Relief washed over me, because witnessing Angela
and Toby together was definitely not my idea of a good time.

“Come on, Tess, at least come to the Point
with us after, you’ll be finished by then, surely.”

No.
No
. I would take a stand. One
night off. Surely I could manage that.

Ellie wouldn’t exactly miss me in the
company of Stan; no one else really existed in their sickeningly
loved-up little world.

I was tired of seeing their constant displays
of public affection, the kissing and cuddling and hand holding.
Tired and envious of it. There were no emails from Ellie with
updates of Friday night shenanigans when I checked on Saturday
morning; no text messages, either. Yep, Ellie was off the radar
alright. She had a boyfriend. It wasn’t official as such, yet, but
I knew the pattern: when Ellie was unreachable, she was happily
lost in Boyfriend Land. Someone who I knew was definitely not in
Girlfriend Land (more so Nana Land), was Adam. He was proving to be
an excellent pen pal.

To: tessmcgee

Kill me now! Seriously!

I am set to go on a shopping expedition to
Central Plaza tomorrow with Nan and Aunty Claire. You know what
that means? Hours spent at Millers, Lincraft, Spotlight, oohing and
aahing over the feel of fabric. And gossiping over gluten free
cake, over how Mum should be more independent and how she’s getting
too skinny on her latest Weight Watchers obsession. And then I’ll
be forced to have a haircut that I don’t need at one of those ‘Just
Cuts’ sweat shops. I am predicting at least 8 hours of hell. But I
don’t need to complain. How is working for the parentals? I must
say I’m not sure how I feel about all this work caper.

OMG Tess. Are you changing?? Remember you
have to let me know.

Sender: Adam I can jump puddles
Henderson

To: Adam I can jump puddles Henderson

I have changed! I am rolling in the $$ now,
so I can go to large shopping complexes and ooh and ahh over the
feel of fabrics.

Do you want to come? Ohh that’s right…you’re
‘busy’.

Shame you can’t come home this weekend. There
is a Cricket Club disco in the beer garden tonight. (So I have been
told via a blunt voice message from your brother) Which means Chris
and Uncle Eric will be running around stressed and snappy as they
try and set things up. Oh yay!

I saw your mum the other day, she hasn’t lost
too much weight she looks fantastic! Do I sense a bit of the green
eyed monster in Aunty Claire? (Don’t repeat that)

Sender: tessmcgee

To: tessmcgee

I am so going to repeat that.

Sender: Adam I can jump puddles
Henderson

I smiled to myself, shook my head and logged
off. I was not relishing the thought of this afternoon’s shift back
at the Onslow. I predicted chaos. Chris would be in a foul mood,
snapping at everyone, and I’d be exposed to plumber’s crack from
Uncle Eric as, ciggie hanging from his mouth, he tried to connect
extension cords. Melba would be muttering under her breath and
Rosanna wigging out over bookings. It would be like Irish weekend,
but worse.

On the plus side, I had never felt so rich.
Mum and Dad had given me a rather healthy pay packet which I’d sat
on my bed and counted over and over again. After finding out about
the disco, I thought, what better way to treat the hard-working
woman in me than with a shopping spree.

I hitched a ride into town with Mum, and I
couldn’t help but stare at Matthew & Son as we drove by. The
lights were off and the garage doors were pulled down. I didn’t
have much time before I had to get ready for work, but managed to
stock up on moisturiser, lip balm, some make-up and Impulse spray.
I made a quick dash to Carter’s to finally buy that top I’d been
mooning over all summer. The top I had tried on a hundred times.
The top I loved, the top that was GONE.

I frantically flicked through the racks;
maybe someone moved it? No-no-no. I asked the peroxided,
bubblegum-chewing shop assistant if there was another one in stock.
She shrugged. “Sorry hon. What’s there is there, must have sold
it.”

I trudged slowly out of the shop.
I would
not cry over a top.

I would, however, be severely depressed and
moody for the rest of the day. My heart wasn’t into shopping
anymore and I slumped myself back to the car for Mum to take me
home. Ellie had texted me to say that she was going to be late and
not to wait for her. She was no doubt just crawling out of bed
after a late night rendezvous with Stan.

Whatever.

When Mum dropped me at work, it was exactly
as I’d expected: chaos. But it was good chaos. I walked through the
beer garden entrance expecting to find nothing good. Instead, I was
amazed. The dance floor was prepped, the DJ station in place and a
man was working on the lighting. There was no shouting, or bum
crack, it all looked rather under control.

I swooped down on some dirty dishes (probably
from Uncle Eric’s breakfast) and made my way to the kitchen.

Amy was sitting on the bench swinging her
legs, seemingly in a good mood. Until she saw me. Her smile
vanished, and she glared at me in her usual death stare I’d grown
accustomed to. Talk about holding a grudge. Beside her, Melba
peeled carrots and Chris leaned casually against the bench, his hip
cocked and arms crossed. Rosanna was flailing around the kitchen in
her usual flurry of insanity.

“I mean it, Chris, this kitchen is getting
shut down at nine pm sharp! My kid’s sitter charges like an asshole
a minute after that, and I will not be taking a single order after
nine.”

I wasn’t completely sure what an asshole
charged, but it made me smile. I did find Rosannaisms quite funny
when they weren’t directed at me.

I took the initiative of filling the sink up
and making a start on the mess from breakfast. Plus, I didn’t mind
making Amy look bad; that was a small part of it.

“Don’t stress, Rosanna, I’ve got it. Nine
sharp,” Chris repeated.

“Anyway, I think it’s only fair, we want to
go to the disco, too, you know,” Amy piped up.

Chris raised his eyebrows and turned to
Melba. “Is that right, Melba? You hanging to bust a move on the
dance floor tonight, too?”

Melba just scoffed and brushed away his
words. “Oh, you.”

“How about this? Kitchen shutdown at nine
sharp and as long as things are shipshape here, the rest of you can
knock off at ten.”

I spun around. “Serious? Ten?”

Chris turned as if noticing me for the first
time. “Just this once.”

“Hells, yeah!” Amy screamed and swung her
legs more rapidly.

“But this kitchen has to be spotless,” Chris
added before leaving.

“Looks like you will be busting a move after
all tonight, Melbs,” Rosanna teased. “Where’s my drink, chook? I’m
thirsty like a son of a bitch.”

Amy passed Rosanna a pot of soda water which
she drained in three giant gulps.

“Now, spill! Right from the start, this is
some good shit.” Rosanna leaned forward, her full attention
directed at Amy, kitchen work forgotten now that she had negotiated
her nine pm knock off. She seemed more relaxed, for now. Was that
just soda water?

“What have I told you two about gossiping?”
Melba said with exasperation.

Rosannna waved her off. “Oh, shush. You love
it, go on, chook.”

Chook’s (or rather, Amy’s) beady eyes swept
around the kitchen, as if she was some kind of P.I, before settling
into the gossip she was about to unload. Such an attention seeker,
I thought, as I dipped the wok into the sink to soak.

“Okay, so I wasn’t allowed to stay out to
watch the fireworks (which was so unfair) and my friends were
having a party at McLean’s Beach, and I couldn’t go because my
dad’s a dick and he thinks I’m, like, going to get pregnant and
drink and shit.”

I raised my brows as I set into scrubbing a
pot. It sounded familiar, but, wow, she had a mouth on her. Either
this was how fifteen-year-olds talked now, or Amy had been hanging
out with Rosanna for too long.

“Anyway, I had to wait for Dad to go to sleep
which took
forever
, because he never really settles until he
knows everything is locked down. So, no worries, I knew the party
wouldn’t be cranking up ’til later, anyway. So it was real late
when I climbed out onto the fire escape for my grand exit.”

“I don’t know if I should be hearing this.”
Melba frowned.

“Anyway … that’s when I heard the voices
under the stairs. I was like, shit!, and ducked like a ninja. And
that’s when I saw movement. Two shadows talking under the stairs. I
thought, ooh, gross, slobbery drunks pashing in the beer garden. So
I had to get a better look, right?”

“Of course.” Rosanna nodded vigorously,
hanging on every word. And then I noticed – so was I. I had been
working on the same plate for the last five minutes.

“But they weren’t pashing, they were sitting
on the bottom steps, and one of them – the girl – was crying … like
really
crying, while the boy rubbed her back and then she
looked up at him and was like, why? Why would he do that? And I was
like, holy shit, I know who that is.”