Unsuitable (12 page)

Carrie
pushed car keys into his hand. “We’ll follow you to Prince of Wales.”

He
detached Mia, bent and scooped Toby into his arms. Mia was wailing. “Mia, stay
with Carrie and Eugenia. Let me help Toby, okay.” It had to be. He got Toby to
Junna’s car, but she was too shaky to drive. Fifteen minutes later he pulled up
at casualty, double parked and carried Toby inside. They saw him straight away.
He’d put his tooth through his lip and he needed a couple of stitches.

Carrie
brought Mia in and they waited with Junna till Toby’s parents arrived. He was worried
more for Junna than Toby now. It could’ve been any of the kids. He sent Audrey
a message to tell her where they were and what happened. He didn’t hear back
from her.

By
the time he collected his car and got home, Mia was ratty and crabby. She’d found
the new tear in her dress and worried it bigger. He fed her. He got her cleaned
up and changed. She fought him on that. She wouldn’t talk to him. She wouldn’t
let him brush her hair and it was full of sand. She burst into tears the moment
Audrey walked in. He hadn’t had a chance to make something for Audrey’s dinner.
He hadn’t chilled the wine. The fairy dress was unsalvageable. He still had a
headache.

“You
had quite a day. How’s Toby?”

“Four
stitches.” Reece put his hand to his lip to indicate where Toby had broken the
skin. “Two teeth knocked out. He’s very bruised as well.”

Audrey
hugged Mia. “Awful accident. But you’re all right, Mia. You’re not hurt.”

“Reece
is m...m...mean to me,” she sobbed. “I don’t l..l..like him anymore. I
w...w...want Cameron.”

Audrey
picked Mia up and let her sob. He was making things worse by being there. He
went home feeling defeated. He was earlier than normal and that made Sky happy,
but he wasn’t in the mood to take advantage of that. This time he was spoiling
for a fight. He told her about the day, about Toby. He left out the part about
Carrie kissing him, leaving doors, half imagined thoughts open for him.

Sky
half listened. She cooked a Thai beef curry and downloaded a movie to watch
without asking him what he’d like to see. They ate without talking. He called
home and spoke to Flip. She was having a sleepover party with friends from
school. They were staying up all night. She was busy and didn’t want to talk. Charlie
was in the background trying to convince him into dropping around. He sent
Junna a text. She still had a job. He took two more headache tablets and had a
long shower. Toby’s blood was never coming out of his shirt.

Toby’s
parents had looked at Junna as if it was her fault, as if she’d put Toby in the
jaws of a lion, the path of a speeding car. Audrey looked at him tonight as if
things had changed, as if she was sorry. For Toby, for Mia being upset? For how
they’d been with each other last night? She didn’t stop him leaving. He should
apologise for offending her, except he didn’t mean it. Wasn’t sure she was
offended. Wasn’t sure of anything.

“You’re
brooding, babe. Snap out of it.”

He
grunted. The headache was lifting, the mood wasn’t. “I’m not fit to associate
with tonight. I should just go to bed.” That had to be it. He didn’t do well on
less than four hours sleep.

“Is
this going to happen again?”

“Kids
have accidents.”

“No,
last night. Audrey being so late. Does she pay you more for unplanned overtime
like that?”

They
hadn’t talked about it. He supposed that was fair, but he wasn’t going to make
an issue of it.

“Reece,
she’s taking advantage of you. It’s like your family all over again. I came
second to your sisters and now I’m coming second to Audrey and Mia. Do you
think that’s fair to me?”

He
pressed the heels of his hands against his eye sockets. “I think we should talk
about it when I’ve had some sleep.”

“Which
means you’re angry with me now.”

Sky
stood in front of where he slumped on her couch. She’d changed out of work gear
into yoga pants and a singlet, her hair was in a scrappy bunch at the back of
her head, short pieces falling out and framing her face. He usually thought she
looked beautiful like this. No make-up, no artifice. Tonight she looked hard
and cold.

“It
means I’ve had a bitch of a day and I’m tired and I don’t want to argue with
you.”

“You
never do want to argue with me. You never fight me on anything. I’m beginning
to think you don’t care enough.”

He
sighed. “Enough for what?”

“Enough
for us to make a go of it.”

“Why
don’t you say what you mean, Sky?”

She
jammed her hands on her hips. “This job, this child care thing. You’re really
committed to it.”

“Is
that a question? I don’t hear a question. It’s not a child care thing. I did a
degree. You’ve known as long as I have, this is what I want.”

“I
thought you’d get tired of it in the real. I thought you’d get bored.”

“I’m
not bored. That’s a good thing.”

“That’s
a bad thing. You have no ambition, Reece. You’re this big gentle giant of a man
who wants to make sandcastles and draw with crayons.”

“And
you think there’s something shameful about that?”

She
cocked her hip, she knew she was pushing it. “I don’t think there’s a future in
it.”

“So
there’s no future for us?”

“I
didn’t say that.”

He
stood. He never did that. He never argued with her without letting her have a
position of physical strength, because when he was on his feet there was no way
not to dominate her and he didn’t wanted her scared of him. “But it’s what you
mean, isn’t it?”

She
took a step away. “I’m not being the bad guy, Reece. You only moved in because
I nagged you to. If you want out of here, out of us, you have to call it.”

“I’m
not calling it anything but a fight when I’m too tired to make sense.” He
reached for her and she stepped in closer. She smelled of spices and chilli
powder. She liked it when he got riled up.

They
didn’t watch the movie. Reece took Sky to bed and the sex was hot and angry. He
wanted her body but he didn’t want to kiss her lips, he didn’t want to talk to
her. He didn’t want to change for her, but he showed her what that would be
like; if he dominated, if he lacked gentleness. He made her cry out for him. He
made her want. He took what he wanted from her with a lot less consideration
than she was used to. There was nothing indecisive or lacking in ambition in
the way he made her come over and over, crying out and shuddering. She loved
it. It made him feel dirty. She wanted to cuddle and he didn’t care, let her
sprawl on him but didn’t hold her. She fell asleep quickly.

He
lay there thinking about how to do this. How to be a man who wanted to work in
a woman’s world where he wasn’t trusted. How to be a man who had a thing for
his employer.

How
to leave Sky without it hurting either of them too much.

12:     One
Time Only

Audrey
tuned in for Wiggle time and there was no one there to make her smile. She sat
at her desk and looked at her empty lounge room. She’d only wanted to watch
them for a few minutes. To see Mia giggle and do her beetle impression that
looked like a starfish, or her horse impression that looked like a rabbit. To
see Reece laugh, to see him loose and easy and comfortable again.

After
the drop-dead awkwardness of Friday night, she’d spent most of the weekend
wanting to call him. Wanting to hear his voice, to bluff until they were
relating normally again, instead of avoiding his eyes, dodging his presence.

It
was surprisingly easy to block him out if she focused on Mia and everything
that was wrong with wanting a deeper connection with her attractive male child-carer.
It made her cold and off-hand with him this morning as well. He’d arrived early
and clearly wanted to talk, but she’d brushed him off and made an escape. Now
she felt miserable about that. But then she was so tired, more than normal, and
she’d not been able to shake it off though she’d tried. She’d slept and slept
on Saturday afternoon while Mia went to the zoo with Merrill and Joe. That
should’ve been enough, but her energy flagged so low it was an effort to keep
her head up. She rubbed the back of her neck, it was so tight. She thought about
having Reece’s fingers on her skin again and shivered, but she’d been shivery
and heavy-headed all morning.

It
was a beautiful day, so they’d probably gone to the park, or the beach. Mia had
been so happy to see Reece this morning, she’d practically climbed his legs
when he walked in.

Tonight
she’d talk to him. Be normal with him. If she could be normal, they could go on
as they had before and nothing would need to change.

She
jumped when Les spoke. “You look awful, Aud.”

She
pulled a tissue from the box on her desk and blew her nose. “I’m fine.”

“If
that’s you looking fine, I’d hate to see you when you’re at death’s door.”

“What
do you want?”

“I
guess civility would be too much to ask. You snapped at me all Friday as well. If
you’re not sick, you could lighten up.”

Audrey
sagged. “Sorry. I’m out of sorts.”

“No
kidding.” Les lent on the doorjamb. “Anyway, the Project Maverick meeting is
off.”

“What
do you mean off?”

Les
pulled a face. “As in not on. Not happening this week at all. You are sick,
aren’t you?”

“I
don’t know what’s wrong with me. Something.”

“Something.
Mia?”

“She’s
great.”

“Is
it that douchebag in accounts hitting on you again?”

“No.
I’m tired, that’s all.”

“Reece?”
Les read her hesitation. “Oh no, what’s he done?”

She
tried for a recovery, “No one has done anything. I just need more sleep,” and achieved
irritation.

“If
you say so. If you ask me—”

“I’m
not.”

“—You
should go home before you snap at someone whose not as fantastically well
balanced and robust of ego as me.”

“You,
a robust ego. Don’t make me laugh.”

Les
rolled her eyes. “A laugh might improve you.”

Audrey
stood. She’d get coffee, that would help. “It’s severe Mondayitis.”

But
it wasn’t. Coffee didn’t help. She couldn’t face food at lunch. She zoned out entirely
during a meeting on building code regulation changes. At 3pm she admitted
defeat. She felt terrible. Not sick exactly, but not well enough to last the
day out productively either. She was better off going home and getting extra
sleep and catching up tomorrow. And that was the plan.

She
rang Reece from the car. He answered after some fumbling during which she could
hear ambient outdoor sound, birds and Mia giggling.

“Hi,”
he said. Just that one word and she felt a little lighter, better. “We’re at
the beach.” His voice faded but she heard, speak to Mum, and she got Mia.

“Guess
where I am?”

“The
beach.”

“Guess
again.” Mia didn’t wait. “I’m up way, way high and I can see all over the whole
wide world.”

“You
must be very high.”

“Birds
nearly land on me. I’m on Reece’s shoulders. I’m going to stay here forever. It’s
very comfortable.”

Audrey
laughed. Whole sentences. Mia had been slower than some of the other kids to
talk and when she’d started it was single words and single sentences for a long
time. She was having a conversation with her baby and those were tears that pricked
her eyes.

“Reece
might get tired.”

“He
never will get tired.” Her voice got faint. “Will you get tired?” She was
asking him. “No he won’t. I’m holding on his hair.”

She
had an overwhelming urge to see Mia atop Reece’s shoulders. She changed lanes. It
would be easy to park at the beach at this end of a work day. She could tell
Reece her plan in person. “I hope Reece is holding on to you.”

“He
won’t drop me. Ever. Never. I had a babycino.”

“Are
you on the walkway or the sand?” She’d find them quicker if she knew where they
were.

“We’re
where a black dog is.”

She
snagged a park and got out of the car. “Near where, honey?”

“We’re
at the south end near the sandwich shop. Are you somewhere near?” Reece had the
phone now.

“I
just parked near the playground.” She looked left from where she was standing. It
was so bright she squinted despite her sunglasses. She could see them in the
distance. “I’ve got you. I’ll walk towards you.” She hung up. She saw Reece
turn and start towards her and like Mia, she saw the whole wide world through
eyes too sensitive, and a bundle of emotions too raw from exhaustion to be real.

Reece
wore knee length surf shorts and runners, a white t-shirt that fitted close to
his form, and Mia wore her gumboots, a red t and overall shorts. No fairy
dress. She had a handful of Reece’s dark hair. Both of his big hands were over
her knees. He had her scooter tucked under his arm and a bag over his shoulder.

Mia
was chatting away, looking around. She hadn’t spotted Audrey. But all Audrey
could see was her baby girl, her hope, her dream, her life coming towards her, Mia’s
dark curls bouncing under the brim of her sun hat, one hand occasionally
leaving Reece’s head to point something out to him.

Here
was Mia at three and a half, health, happy and learning daily. It was all she’d
wanted when she’d brought her home, a strange little alien who could do nothing
for herself except demand and poop, who spoke a language Audrey never quite
understood. Maybe until right at this moment.

Reece
passed as Mia’s father. Their colouring was the same, though he was tanned a
golden colour and he’d taken good care to keep Mia well covered from the sun. For
a moment Audrey imagined they both belonged to her, without a job description
and a salary getting in the way. For the moment she imagined they were a proper
family meeting up after time apart. That they’d go home together and tend to
Mia and when she slept there’d be time for just the adults. To talk. To touch. To
be each other’s ease.

It
was such a foreign thought. She didn’t go into motherhood thinking she’d regret
the lack of a partner in anything but an intellectual way. She’d spent no time
wishing she had someone to share the parenting burden with because she’d
organised her life around managing for Mia’s best interests. But this was
different, this wasn’t about wishing there was someone else to help with Mia. This
was wishing there was someone else who cared for her, and wishing that someone
was Reece.

She
walked towards her daughter and her daughter’s carer and the deep fatigue she
felt dropped away. Reece was grinning, looking right at her. He spoke to Mia
and she started waving frantically. Audrey quickened her pace and Reece spurred
his. Mia called, “Mum. Mum. Look at me. I’m on top of the world.” She let go of
Reece and flung her arms out wide in a parody of the scene from Titanic he
must’ve taught her.

They
were only a dozen or so paces apart now. Reece carried Mia so easily and she
looked so tiny against his bulk, she might’ve been scared of being that high. Audrey
might’ve been scared of seeing her perched that way, but for the laughter and
the joy it brought her tired soul. She walked right into Reece’s space and put
her hands to the top of Mia’s boots, curling her fingers inside their edge. “Hello
Mia.”

“I’m
very high.”

“You
are.” She dropped her eyes from Mia to Reece. His face was flushed. Sunburn
maybe. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

Audrey
took a deep breath. She let go of Mia’s boots. She should step away. She was
standing too close. It was very hot out here and very bright. “She’s heavy
enough to give you a neck ache. You should have a hat on.”

“Nah.”
He gave a little jump to jostle Mia and she shrieked and pulled his hair making
him grimace, then he turned sideways so she could see his cap tucked in the
waist of his boardies. “Hair is better to hold on to.”

Oh
God, she had already imagined Reece’s hair under her fingers.

“I
am holding on,” said Mia.

Audrey
reached for the top edge of Reece’s cap and pulled it out of his shorts. She
unfolded it. The fabric was warm from his body. She took the scooter out from
under his arm. He was perfectly capable of putting his own cap on. But he knew
what she wanted to do. He took his hands off Mia’s knees and held them above
his head so she could take them. He ducked his head and Audrey slid the cap
over his thick, dark hair. He smelled of sunscreen and saltwater and something
else she couldn’t pick. When he lifted his head she was grateful both of them
had sunglasses on. She didn’t dare read his eyes.

“Want
to ride?” he said, and without giving Mia a chance to protest he took her under
the arms and lifted her over his head. She squealed as he swung her to the
ground then made a happy grab for her scooter. He swapped her hat for her
helmet. “Only to the playground, no further.” Mia took off, too fast.

“She’s
going—”

“She’s
fine. They all ride like that, like they’re drunk.”

She
watched Mia weave up the path. She stopped, looked back at them, started again.
Audrey frowned. Why didn’t she know this was how Mia rode, erratic, dangerous
in a crowd? Not that there was any danger now, they had the path to themselves.

“Is
everything okay?”

“Yes.”
She coughed, her throat was so dry. She didn’t want to admit she felt strange. “A
meeting got cancelled. Gave myself an early mark.”

Reece
took hold of her arm. “Audrey, are you all right?”

“I’m
fine, it’s hot. I’m not dressed for the beach.”

“All
the colour dropped out of your face.”

“I’m
fine.”

He
let go her arm, but stared at her. “You’re not fine.”

“I’ve
got a bit of a headache, that’s all. I’m tired. An early night is all I need.”

“Ah.
Well, Mia should be tuckered. She’s been on the go all day and she did well at
her swimming lesson this morning. I could stay and get her to bed for you.”

She
frowned. How could she have forgotten about the swimming lesson? That’s why
there was no Wiggle time. That’s what Reece would have wanted to talk about
this morning. What was wrong with her? “How did it go?”

“She’s
not scared of the water, which is a good start. Today was all about splashing. Tomorrow
it’s bubble blowing. And you know what? I’m going to fight you about putting
her to bed. It’s no trouble.”

She
laughed unexpectedly. “I can’t picture you ever fighting with anyone. I don’t
think I’ve met anyone with as even and steady a temperament as you. You can put
her to bed if you let me buy us an early dinner. Fish and chips on the beach.”

“Don’t
confuse me with a better man.”

He
walked ahead. She didn’t follow. He’d sounded bitter and she hadn’t expected
that. He was pushing Mia on a swing when she caught up with them. She sat on a
park bench in the shade and watched them, wondering what she’d said to make
Reece react that way. Mia soon tired of the swing and headed for the slide. Reece
sat beside her on the bench. They had the playground to themselves.

“I
said something to upset you.”

He
shook his head. “No.” He took his cap off and scrubbed at his hair. “I spent
all weekend fighting with Sky. We broke up. I moved out.”

“Oh,
Reece, I’m sorry.”

“It
was the right thing to do.”

“Do
you want to talk about it?”

“Hah.
No.”

Mia
ran around for her umpteenth turn on the slide. There was usually a queue of
kids and she had to wait her turn. She loved this, but she was making Audrey
dizzy. “I’m here if you do.”

“You’re
my employer.”

That
stung and it shouldn’t have. Because there shouldn’t have been any fantasies
associated with Reece that suggested she was more, that suggested they were
more. There shouldn’t be the desire to lean slightly sideways and rest against
his arm, and pretend he might put it around her and hold her up.