Max (3 page)

Chapter Four

Max

“What, here?”

At first I thought I might have heard Bluey
wrong, or that maybe what he had just said was a joke. But as I soon discovered
in the serious set of his steely blue stare, I knew he was for real.

I swallowed, shifting in my seat.

“Y-you want Mel to stay here?”

“It’s just until I get back from Burnley.”

“Why don’t you take her with you?” I said a
bit too quickly.

“I can’t keep dragging her from pillar to
post. I’m used to this lifestyle, Mel’s not.”

“You do know that Mel was never the
problem, that nothing would have happened if Miranda hadn’t have been there to
lead her astray. You know that, right?”

I didn’t feel bad about throwing my sister
under the bus, so to speak. It was the truth. She was always getting into
trouble, sneaking out, drinking, coercing Mel to help cover for her and do her
dirty work.

“She still got in the car, she still took
the car, she could have said no at any point, made a better decision … and she
didn’t. I need her to be somewhere I know she’ll be safe, be with someone I can
trust. I would have had her stay with your mum and dad if they weren’t
gallivanting around the world.”

I knew Bluey’s stance all too well: a
staunch union rep, hard-working, good guy. He was all about respect and trust
and above all things, earning it. I didn’t envy Mel trying to win back those
things from her old man, but there was one thing that really had my head
spinning above all others.

He trusted me?

Out of everyone who could have possibly
been chosen, he chose my doorstep to dump her on. I didn’t know how to take
that.

“That, ah, might be a bit tricky,” I said,
glancing toward the bar. I was working now, earning my keep and paving my way.
I didn’t have time to be a bloody babysitter.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be a free ride. Mel
will help out, she’s a good little worker.”

“Ah, does she know this?”

“I don’t know, let’s ask her. Mel!”  Bluey
turned in his seat, yelling out across the room. It took me a minute to catch
on to what he was doing and then it all became very clear when the divider slid
aside and a rather sheepish-looking Mel stepped into the room, her eyes
downturned as if she found the floorboards most fascinating.

When her eyes did look up I tried for my
best friendly smile, but it was forced and it probably came across as just a
thin, pained expression. Melanie couldn’t even muster up enough energy to fake
happiness of any kind. She obviously overheard the deal, and she was none too
happy about it. Join the club!

“I’m going to head off to Burnley, but you
can stay here with Max until I get back.”

Even if she had overheard our conversation,
her eyes still widened with surprise, flicking between her dad and me.

“You’re really leaving me here?”

“I thought I would spare you the
thirty-six-hour drive to Burnley,” Bluey mused.

“W-when will you be back?”

“Ha! And here I was worried that you would
be glad to get rid of me,” Bluey winked in my direction.

His effort to lighten the mood wasn’t
working on either of us. And I was madly trying to think of an alternative
solution to suggest other than this one. Since when had I become so bloody
trustworthy? In times like this it was not a handy attribute. I thought about
my mates, Ringer or Sean, and I seriously doubted any father in their right
mind would entrust their daughter’s wellbeing into their care. Yep! It sucked
to be me.

“I’ll have a talk with Chris, I’m sure she
can crash in the room she’s in. There might even be a chance for some
waitressing on the weekend.”

Bluey nodded. “Sounds good, she’s helped out
with the Rotary Club so it shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll leave some money for
board and meals and anything she needs.”

“She is the cat’s mother!”

Our eyes turned to the sound of an angry
voice. Mel stood there with her hands balled into fists by her sides, a deep
frown crinkled in her brow.

“She can do this, she can do that … Don’t
talk about me like I’m not here.”

Bluey sighed. “Sorry, love, we’re just
trying to sort some things out.”

“Well, how about asking me what I want?
Maybe I want to go to Burnley.”

Bluey’s brows rose in surprise. “Do you
want to come to Burnley?”

“Oh God, no!” she replied, her shoulders
shivering as if to shake off a nightmare.

“So you’ll stay?” I spoke for the first
time directly to her, and her eyes landed on me.

“I’ll stay,” she said. “Just try not to
look so unhappy about it.”

Shit, so I was crap at hiding my emotions.
Her words were like a slap across the face, and I suddenly felt shitty for
making Mel feel that way, as if she was to be this burden on me. But I couldn’t
help it. No matter which way you sliced it, her staying here was going to be a
huge pain in the arse. When I wasn’t working I liked my down time, but now I
would be on constant lookout for another person. Some days I could barely take
care of myself, for Christ’s sake.

“If you try to look happy, I’ll try to look
happy,” I said, offering an olive branch of sorts with a forced fake smile.

Bluey clapped his hands together in an
almighty slap that caused us both to blink and snap out of our eye contact. “Excellent,
that’s sorted then; you’re happy, she … ah,  I mean, Mel’s happy, and I’m
happy. We’re all happy!”

I didn’t know what the definition of happy
was for Bluey, but looking over at the sullen look of Mel’s and the deep-seated
feeling of dread I felt, this was not what I called happy – not even close.

***

“So who is she to you?” Chris was half
paying attention as he struggled to roll a beer barrel to the edge of the
cellar door.

“She’s my sister’s best friend, her old man
is my dad’s best mate. I kind of said I would watch over her while he’s away
for business. He’ll pay board for her, meals, the lot. I just have to …”

“Babysit?”

“Yeah, something like that,” I said glumly.

Chris straightened, slightly out of breath
from helping unload the last barrel from the back of the ute. Wiping his brow,
he shrugged and said, “She’s not a thief, a liar or a pyromaniac?”

I cleared my throat. “No,” I lied.

My mind whizzed back to Miranda’s night of
sneaking out and taking one of Bluey’s cars into town in the middle of the
night. But at least I wasn’t being completely untrue; as far as I knew Mel didn’t
have a tendency for fire lighting.

“Well, you’ll be responsible for her, and
if her room and meals are paid, doesn’t worry me.”

“She’s willing to help out in the
restaurant if we get busy.”

Chris flipped up the edge of the ute tray
and locked it back into place. “This plan just keeps sounding better and
better.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, just peachy.”

Chapter Five

Melanie

The look on his face said it all.

He didn’t want me here, and I wasn’t quite
prepared to how shit that would make me feel.

Overhearing Dad’s words that he had planned
to leave me here, that I didn’t have to get dragged to another godforsaken
town, I would instead stay in Onslow, with Max: It couldn’t have been more perfect,
except for the clear reluctance that Max’s voice was laced in. It was painful
to listen to, even more painful to watch through the slithered opening of the
divider. I had seen enough, I just wanted to creep away and try not to think
about the look of horror that flashed in Max’s eyes when he replied:

What? Here?

As if the sheer prospect of such a thing
was truly horrifying. Just as I was about to creep my way toward my room, grab
my shoes, and then insist that I really did want to drive thirty-six hours to
the middle of nowhere to hang out near sheep—no, really, I think they would
have revelled in my company, clearly more so than Max—I heard my name.

Sprung!

I wanted to die.

***

I felt a bubble of fear lodge in my chest
as I walked Dad out to his car, following behind with his bag, opening up the
passenger door and propping it on the seat, the very seat where I should be
sitting. It seemed strange saying goodbye, waving him off like this. Being left
here was what I would have thought was a pivotal step in the trust stakes.
Except he was merely passing the lock and key of my shackles to someone else—to
Max to watch over me. Having seen Max as nothing but the utter sex god he was,
mooning over him secretly and at a distance, and now he was the one that had to
‘look after me’; well, it was just damn right embarrassing. I was also not
stupid, I thought, as I crossed my arms across my chest.

“Will Lynda be there?”

Dad’s head snapped around, his eyes alarmed
and inquisitive at my question. “Sorry?”

“Lynda McEvoy. She lives in Burnley, doesn’t
she?”

Dad tried to appear cool and casual as he
secured the canvas in the back of his ute, shrugging one lazy shoulder. “I
think so.”

I smiled knowingly. I had never had the
displeasure of being dragged to Burnley before, but as far as I knew, there was
a particular motivation that kept Dad driving back there annually and it wasn’t
all business and no pleasure.
Ew!
I suddenly felt so much better about
not being forced to tag along, be a third wheel. I also knew more so than ever
that it wasn’t because Dad trusted me to stay behind, he just wanted to be able
to be a bloke without a teenage daughter in his shadow, and that was fine by
me.

Dad had become all fidgety and anxious, not
so much over the question he as good as dismissed, but because it was time to
say goodbye, and Dad hated goodbyes.

“If you need anything.”

“I won’t.”

“If you want me to come back.”

“Dad …”

He looked at me.

“Have a good time, yeah?” I said, smiling
small and trying to elevate the mood that was heavy with a brewing emotion.

He nodded, the humour in the moment
catching. “Be good, okay?”

“I will!”

Dad dragged me into a reluctant hug, only
because he never knew his own strength and I could feel my bones popping and
crunching under his embrace.

“Be good for Max,” he said into the top on
my head, before kissing me.

Be good for Max?

Honestly, he must have thought me some kind
of hell raiser. Did he not realise how completely awkwardly alone I would be
here? I had had a rather uncomfortable breakfast served by a cranky waitress
called Melba, a drink poured for me by a stony barman named Chris, and I might
as well have been invisible as Max gave Dad and me the basic tour of the hotel,
the very place that I would call home for at least the next week.

Even though the glittering reflection of
the sunbeams on the water’s surface of the lake in the distance, the sweeping
backdrop of rolling ranges, and the evergreen landscape and fresh air that
rolled over the hill where the Onslow Hotel sat with its amazing vantage point
made me giddy with excitement, reality crashed that giddiness with the thought:

Ha! Would I even be allowed to enjoy
them?

I likened it to throwing breadcrumbs at a
window and watching hungry birds batter themselves to death. Okay, a rather
grisly comparison; still, I was feeling rather morbid about the situation. A
feeling that didn’t lift even when I heard footsteps from behind, coming down
the steps and crunching along the pebbled drive, moving to stand next to me. I
caught the tall, wiry form of Max in my peripheral vision joining me to say
goodbye to Dad.

“All packed?” he asked, plunging his hands
deep into his denim pockets.

Dad slammed the passenger door shut. “All
packed.”

He came to stand before us; his eyes
flicking between us and the inner working rolling through his mind, he had a
sudden look of unease, as if somehow maybe he thought this arrangement was not
a good idea. Oh God, I only hoped he wouldn’t go with any parting ‘Dad humour’,
a means as the final way to humiliate me before he left. I could just imagine
what was running through his mind.

Now remember, keep your pecker in your
pants, son.

Or something as ghastly as that; it wouldn’t
be the first time some poor boy had been given a friendly warning. I had to
deflect, and fast.

“Drive safely,” I said, smiling from ear to
ear.

“Did you grab the packed lunch from Melba?
There should be two days’ worth there, so that should see you through,” added
Max.

Dad’s icy façade thawed as he remembered
the picnic basket he just stored in the back—he was well pleased. A way to a
man’s heart really was through his stomach.

“Yeah, make sure you thank Melba again for
me.”

“Will do,” said Max.

Dad gave me one last bear hug before moving
to shake Max’s hand. He gave him an intense look that said in no uncertain
terms …
‘Don’t fuck up!’