Inbetween Days (32 page)

‘I forgot to tell you…' I brought up my hands.

Luke braced himself as if I was going to hit him. I cradled his face and I kissed him instead. He gave into it and pulled me against him. We found the rhythm that came so easily to us and I held on longer than I should have, until the bar noise intruded and the lights seemed far too bright, even with my eyes closed.

I released him and stepped back. Suddenly, I was so cold. ‘I loved you,' I said. ‘I really did.'

He blinked. He struggled to say something. I knew, if he found the right words, they would hurt.

I found my way to where Trudy was waiting in the car. I got in and buried my face in my hands.

‘Are you going to tell me what happened?'

I couldn't tell her. My lips were stretched into a soundless howl. I tried to reroute the pain by pinching the skin inside my upper arms—it worked whenever I stubbed a toe.

Trudy turned sideways in her seat and stared. ‘Jesus, Jack! Stop. Are you dying?' She smacked me hard on the back.

I hiccuped. I might have giggled.

‘Are you laughing…or crying?'

I couldn't answer; I didn't know.

‘I'll kill him,' Trudy said. ‘He's not worth doing time for but I'd do it.'

‘I know you would.' I gave her a shaky smile. ‘Let's go home.'

It was an ending—not the kind my traitorous heart wished for, but the one I needed. Like an exorcism, minus the holy water and all the thrashing. What had once been a ragged wound became a clean hole right through.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Friday.
FridayFridayFriday
.

I stopped at the pub to heckle Trudy about how nice Thom was and to pick up an illicit sixpack of beer; I rode out the four-thirty routine of Mr Broadbent slapping my cheek and yanking out a few strands of my hair. I left the hair in Mr Broadbent's fist because he couldn't let go. I forgave him because I could let go.

I walked home from Bent Bowl Spoon, swinging the beer in one hand, my shoes in the other. I stopped to give directions to a carful of out-of-towners on their way to the drive-in. Roly was flying solo tonight. All around the bugs hummed and clicked. The waffle-cone smell faded. I breathed in the scent of greenery growing at a rate you could witness, if you stood still long enough.

Meredith Jolley's verandah light was on but she wasn't there.

‘Over here,' she called.

They were sitting on a patch of grass in the park across the street. Meredith was rugged up in a jacket, even though it was still warm. Ma had her shoes off, her hands at rest in her lap. Her dress and apron were hitched above her knees. There was something strange on her head.

‘What's that?'

She whipped it off and held it up. ‘Oh. This. Meredith made it for me.' Her mouth pursed.

Meredith laughed. ‘Don't take it personally,' she said, and punched Ma's arm. ‘It's all I can make. It's a doily.'

She punched Ma's arm. ‘Shit,' I said. Ma hated doilies and cuckoo clocks, and swearing.

Ma winced. ‘Do you hear that?' she said.

‘What?'

‘Exactly.' She smiled and cupped her hands over her ears. ‘He's fixed my wall and now he's wearing the headphones you gave him.'

‘I am a genius,' I said. ‘What's for dinner?'

‘You've got jobs first,' she said. ‘And perhaps you could make dinner tonight.'

‘What do you want me to do?' I said it in my new, most careful tone.

Meredith and Ma shared a look that shut me out. Meredith hid a smile.

‘It's okay. Tell me what you want me to do, Ma.'

Ma huffed. ‘I've tried both being in your life and staying out of it, Jack. I tried the same thing with Trudy. Now you're asking me what you should do?'

‘Yes.' I ground my molars together.

‘I think you should go back to school.'

‘I'll think about it,' I said through my clenched teeth, even though the thought made me feel sick.

‘Good.'

‘Anything else?'

‘You should clean your room and empty the dishwasher. And you should get the washing off the line.' She was warming up now.

I put the beers down next to Meredith. ‘Here. Help yourself.' I put my hands on my hips. ‘Is that it?'

They looked at each other again.

‘Tomorrow you should put that new licence into action. Have some fun.'

What? ‘Why?'

Ma smoothed out her dress. ‘Because one day you're hot in a string bikini and the next time you blink you're Mrs Doubtfire.' She leaned over and took a beer, twisting the top off with her apron. She handed the beer to Meredith.

Ma made a funny. I didn't quite know how to react.

‘It's a lovely doily, Meredith, but I hate it. Thank you.' Ma placed it in Meredith's lap. ‘Go on, then.'

‘I'm going,' I said.

‘Not you. Her.' Ma nodded.

Meredith reached into her jacket pocket and drew out a set of keys. ‘Here. Congratulations on getting your licence. Your world is going to open up now.' She tossed them to me.

I caught them. ‘Well, if only you'd told me that before. You're letting me drive the Barbie car?' I wished they would stop looking at each other.

‘Nooo,' Ma said slowly.

Meredith laughed. ‘Come on. Fair trade.' She held out her arm and wiggled her fingers.

Automatically, my hand went to my pocket. The watch wasn't there.

‘Looking for this?' Ma reached behind her ear and held up Meredith's watch.

‘What, are you a magician now?' I said.

Ma sighed. ‘I just do the washing. You should take more care of other people's things, Jack.' She handed the watch to Meredith and got up, dusting her backside.

‘They're the keys to Jeremiah's car,' Meredith said. ‘And before you get the wrong end of the stick, I'm only asking you to deliver it. What happens after that is up to you.'

I fell quiet. I shuffled the keys in my hands.

What do I do? What do I say? What if I get halfway and turn back? Shouldn't I have the answers before I say yes? What if I make things worse? How do I feel? What do I want? Is there a way of knowing before I get there?

‘Come on, Jack. Didn't you ever just want to get in a car and drive?' Meredith said.

What if he rejects me? Can my heart take it? Should I call first? He loved me. He hates me. Do I love him? I miss him.

‘Make it up as you go, Jack,' Ma said softly.

He deserves better. I am better.

There was no way of knowing until I got there. That would have to be enough.

But what if he's changed? I've changed. I haven't changed enough. I've changed too much.

I was closer now than when I started, whatever that was.

I'll see you when I see you.

Closer.

There was a battle happening on my face. I could feel it. I screwed my eyes shut and held my breath; I made a wish, nothing fancy.

I put the keys in my pocket.

Eventually you have to open your eyes and breathe out.

I started from there.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My books are village-raised and I'm blessed to have stellar human beings in my life. They're patient people, too. I take the long way around just about everything and they never stop cheering.

As always, thanks to Penny Hueston for the conversations, countless readings and endless support. Without you there is no book. Thanks to the Text Publishing team, champions of Australian literature, and to W. H. Chong for his sublime cover art.

Thanks to my agent, Sheila, for giving me wise counsel and peace of mind.

I'm grateful for the support of the authors, publishers, editors, librarians, bloggers, readers and industry professionals who float this passionate and inclusive YA community. If children's and YA literature has entered another Golden Age, it's because of you.

To Allayne Webster, Bec Burton and Paula Weston, thank you for reading, listening and for being there when the wheels fall off. You inspire me every day.

Thank you to Liz and Fi for decades of the best kind of friendship. You knew me when and you still hung in there.

And to Russ, Mia, Roan, Mum, Dad, Michelle and my family and friends, my love and thanks. None of this works without you.