Unsuitable (36 page)

Polly
had gone the other way and didn’t hear him. He needed to go see Gino and thank
him. It was humbling to understand the depth of his consideration for the
fucked up friend of his son. Any other parent would’ve wanted them separated,
tried to drive a wedge between them. He had no idea what to do with this, but
it needed to be something worthy of that generosity and foresight.

He
turned back to follow Polly, repeating himself about not wanting kids to get
hurt here and it hit him, like a wrecking ball and he knew exactly what to do.

24:     Contingency

It
took home delivered Thai food and four well-intentioned adults ninety minutes
to work out a plan to care for Mia in the event of Audrey being unable to. Audrey
found it a macabre relief that if she gave dying a fatal nudge, Mia would be
cared for in a way that wouldn’t make her want to cosmically reconstitute and
parent in corporeal form.

She
looked across the dining table at Barrett and he nodded. What they’d done was
good, sensible, responsible provisioning for Mia’s welfare they should’ve
thought to do when she was born.

“I
can die happy now,” she said. Though if she had the misfortune to die tonight
she would be sticky with unwashed regret, the kind that went layers deep like
the ink of a tattoo that needed to be blasted out.

It
wasn’t clever, but everything they’d just nutted out between Merrill, Joe
herself and Barrett was less than perfect because Reece wasn’t part of it.

Les
would document it and they’d all sign it and in each of their homes there’d be
a disaster management plan that Audrey was sure would be the best thing for Mia
in the event of the worst thing happening. But it reinforced like nothing else
had that Mia growing up without Reece in her life was like never making a
snowman, building a sandcastle or climbing a mountain to see a mandarin sunset.

And
she wanted all that and more for Mia. Damn Reece for making her feel inadequate
for packing snow and chasing the sun, and making the world wonderful for Mia on
her own.

She’d
had her share of single parent doubts; they’d left her feeling panicked or
selfish, or simply lacking in the essential nutrients for bringing up a child
successfully. But every parent worried about getting it right, it was part of
the job description, and Audrey knew she was worse at it than some and better
at it than others. She knew that would be the case before she selected Barrett
as her donor. What she needed to shake off was feeling inadequate now, because
as long as she was still functioning, she was capable of doing right by Mia.

Missing
Reece was a devious ache that crept up on her and settled over her whole body
like humidity. It was sapping and irritating and wouldn’t be shifted, but she’d
have to do it because Barrett would be gone soon and she wouldn’t have him to
lean on.

He
was hopeless with Mia, more often than not scaring her, easily put out and
lacking the aptitude to appreciate the bizarre humour and warped logic of a
nearly four year old. He tried to reason with her, which might have been funny
except he was continually outraged by Mia’s devious lies and calculating ways. But
he was here and he tried and she was grateful because her days were long and full
as she got on top of the new job.

She
eyed the last of the Crying Tiger. “If no one else wants that?” She waved her fork
in the general direction of the beef dish. It was cold but it would still be
delicious.

“Yours,”
said Barrett, and Joe echoed him.

Merrill
waved a hand, a go on gesture. “It’s good to see you with a healthy appetite.”

Audrey
served herself the remainder of the dish, pouring all the spicy sauce left in
the container over a last service of rice as well. “This new job is making me
hungry.” Which was a miracle.

“Are
you forgetting to eat during the day again?” Merrill asked.

She
knew well that Audrey often did, coasting from breakfast to dinner with only
coffee and tearoom pilfered biscuits in between. The real miracle was that
she’d never had trouble with weight, except losing too much of it. “No. By the
time I get to work I need a second breakfast.”

Barrett
laughed. “Cameron needs to send you off with two sandwiches in the morning.”

Audrey
ate a forkful of rice. “Good idea.” Merrill looked at her strangely. “What, it
is. I’m still underweight.”

Merrill
nodded. She reached for Joe’s hand. They’d had no luck getting pregnant and
that might’ve made talking about what to do with Mia awkward, but they’d been
enthusiastic, which brought her thoughts full circle. Macabre. But morbid
thoughts were almost better than thinking about Reece, and ice cream was better
than both.

“I
got us ice cream cake for dessert.”

“Like
for a kid’s party?” said Joe with obvious distaste.

Barrett
stood without a word and went to kitchen. They heard him rumbling about.

“Not
for me, mate,” Joe called. “Not much for sweet stuff.”

“Wait,”
Audrey said. This wasn’t ordinary ice cream cake, no test run for Mia’s
birthday. It was artisan gelato Black Forest cake, which looked like a cross
between a space ship and a 1930’s pendent light.

Barrett
appeared in the doorway, the creation held at shoulder height. “Behold,
chocolate fondant gelato, kirsch, semifreddo with cherries and chocolate
crackle.”

“Oh
my waistline,” said Merrill, but she clapped her hands. “Gimme.”

“I
thought you’d be impressed.”

Audrey
served. Joe succumbed and for a moment all you could hear were moans of
delight. Joe had seconds. Barrett made coffee. Audrey went for seconds too, a
smaller slice, but it was utterly delicious and she couldn’t resist. She smiled
across the table at Merrill, and Merrill burst into tears.

Joe’s
spoon clattered onto his plate and he gathered Merrill to him with a bemused
expression. “Merry, what’s wrong? Tell me, what did I do? What did I not do?”

Audrey
exchanged a look with Barrett. He pulled a face. Joe repeated his appeal.

Merrill
lifted her head and looked at Audrey. “You’re pregnant.”

“No.”
Audrey laughed, astonished into it.

“You
never eat ice cream. You craved it the whole time you were pregnant with Mia.” Merrill
switched her gaze to Barrett. “That’s why he’s here and you weren’t going to
tell us because, because—” She broke up again.

Audrey
said, “No.”

Barrett
said it far louder, “No,” standing up to press the point.

“But?”
Merrill sniffed, her lips were rubbery and her cheeks were wet.

Audrey
got over her shock. “He’s only visiting.

“I’m
truly only visiting.”

Audrey
looked from Barrett to Merry and Joe. “I don’t want another kid, you know that.
One is enough, more than enough. I would never have sprung it on you and it’s
only ice cream.”

“Aud,
you’re pale and tired, yet the doc gave you a tick for being fully recovered,
you’re eating up a storm and you had a second helping of ice cream.”

“Oh
Merry, I can’t be pregnant.”

Merrill
frowned. Her eyes shifted to Barrett and back. Was she thinking of Reece?

“I
got so underweight I stopped ovulating. I’m still not. I can’t possibly be
pregnant.”

That
set Merrill off again and in turn upset Joe and ended what had been a
surprisingly enjoyable night, given its agenda.

Barrett
stayed another week, long enough for Les to write up their agreement about
Mia’s guardianship and to sign it, long enough that Mia stopped being hesitant
around him and Jeremy grovelled again. He left with a promise to be back by the
time Mia was ready for a school uniform and Audrey missed him the moment he was
gone, despite the relief of having the house to herself again nights and
weekends.

She
settled in at work. Mia stopped asking about Reece quite as often and was happy
with Cameron. Cameron stopped looking drawn and went on a date with a new man. Audrey
put on weight, but not where she expected to, the usual places, hips and waist.
She still wasn’t ovulating and that was a concern, but Doc Barber wasn’t overly
worried. What was a concern was her lack of energy. She was eating like food
was the only thing keeping her from sleep and sleeping like being comatose was
the only thing keeping her feet moving. She’d known the new job would be stressful
but feeling exhausted was a new addition to her life.

Doc
Barber didn’t think it was related to the meningitis, but ordered a full
battery of blood tests anyway. Audrey ordered organic fruit and vegetables and
tried to eat more nutrient rich food and get more exercise to build her energy
levels. She managed to get through the workday without needing a snooze at her
desk but was a zombie by the time she got home. In desperation one weekend, so
tired she almost scalded Mia with too hot bathwater, she called Merrill and
asked if she’d take Mia the next afternoon.

Merrill
arrived with cake and a pop-up princess book for Mia, which kept her quiet
while they talked.

“Wow,
you looked buggered.” Merrill put the kettle on and Audrey was content to let her
buzz around the kitchen. “What if we took Mia for a sleepover?”

“That
would be Christmas rolled in chocolate, turbo stuffed with kindness.” Mia would
love it and Audrey could go to bed and stay there without interruption. She
closed her eyes in anticipation, it would be bliss.

“Are
you sure you’re not pregnant?”

Audrey
opened her eyes to find Merrill staring at her. “It would be an immaculate
conception.”

“You
were sleeping with Reece.”

“And
we were responsible. Plus it was impossible.” One close to no good condom, and
one risky withdrawal not withstanding. It was still impossible.

“I
want you to do something for me.”

“I’ve
seen Doc Barber. She should have blood test results this week. I’m sure it’s
nothing, just work and Mia and life.” And maybe a dose of depression because
God, she missed Reece.

“I
want you to pee on a stick.”

“A
pregnancy test. You’re kidding me?”

She
wasn’t. Merrill put a test kit on the counter. She poured tea. “Drink up, Aud. There
is something wrong and I’m worried. What can it hurt? It will eliminate one
thing.”

Audrey
looked at the test kit and felt all her blood rush to feet and pool in her
ankles. She put her head in her hands. There was something not right, and
having Merrill express her concern was permission to accept the weight of not
feeling well.

Her
whole body felt strange to her, as if it didn’t belong. She was too thin but
her breasts were swollen and tender. She was drained even after good sleep, and
hungry all the time.

She’d
been nauseous constantly with Mia and barely able to eat, except for a
surprising amount of ice cream. She had no memory of this sapping tiredness though,
and anyway it was an irrelevant comparison. She couldn’t be pregnant.

She
drank her tea and ate two pieces of cake. Mia was still engrossed in the princess
book. So quiet Audrey had to check she wasn’t up to mischief. She drank more
tea. Merrill wasn’t making a move to go until pee hit the stick and Audrey
wanted sleep more than she wanted to argue the inappropriateness of it.

She
took the kit to the bathroom. When she finished with it, Merrill and Mia were
dancing in the lounge room. She put the packaging in the bin and left the stick
on the kitchen counter and went to watch. Mia’s version of the twist was super
cute. Where had she gotten that from? It had to be Reece, because it wasn’t
Barrett or Cameron.

All
that dancing made Mia thirsty. They went back to the kitchen and Audrey hunted
in the fridge for the juice poppers Mia liked. She’d pack a couple for Merrill
to take with her in Mia’s sleepover kit. If she packed Mia’s bag, Merrill would
take the hint and get a move on.

She
turned to tell Merrill that Mia had a new favourite bedtime story and
everything in her safe, controlled, organised and reliable world changed. It
only took one look at Merrill’s face to make her grab for the stick. That plus
symbol, clear as the winter sea stared back at her. She floundered. “It’s a
mistake.” She put her hands over her stomach, an involuntary action she dropped
as soon as she recognised she’d done it.

“It
could be, but it’s not likely.”

“What’s
a mistake, Mum?”

It
had to be a mistake. There was no need to panic. “Go in the other room, Mia.” She
needed to think.

“Can
I watch Nemo?”

Merrill
took Mia’s hand. “I’ll put it on for you.”

Alone,
Audrey pulled the kit’s packaging from the garbage and scanned the fine print
for an error rate. In the other room the TV went on. There was a logical way to
work through this, she only had to find the threads and pull them together.

“Home
kits are ninety-eight percent accurate.” Merrill was back.

“That
can’t be right.” She couldn’t be pregnant.

“Joe
did the research. ”They’re almost as accurate as a lab test.”

“Well,
maybe this one was left in the sun or something.” She picked up the stick and
shook it, as if that might set things right.

“It
wasn’t left in the sun, Aud. It’s one of mine. You’re pregnant.”

The
plus sign was still there. “I can’t be pregnant.”

“You
are and I’m not.” Merrill folded her arms tight around her.