“It’s time for dinner, Sleeping Beauty. Get comfy, and I’ll bring it in. Then, as promised, I’ll get out of your way.”
“Aren’t you going to stay and eat with me?” He looks crestfallen, and I can’t resist.
“Are you sure you’re up to it? I thought you might like a tray in bed. It’s easy one-handed eating.”
“Come on. I can’t let you go home without eating some of the food you’ve slaved over. And I do feel a lot better after my nap.”
We settle at the little dining table and tuck into the chicken pesto pasta I threw together.
“I called my mother today, as requested,” Josh says as he reaches for his water.
“Really? That’s great. It must’ve been good to talk to her when you were feeling so battered. What did she say about your accident?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” I squeak.
“I didn’t tell her.”
“What?” Gobsmacked, to say the least, I put down my fork and stare at him. “Why not?”
“She didn’t ask. She didn’t even ask how I was. The subject didn’t come up.”
I know Josh has a broken relationship with both his parents. But this is beyond anything I could imagine. Having been helicopter parented my whole life and all.
“Oh, Josh. I’m sorry. I know you’re not close, but …” I don’t quite know how to finish my sentence.
“Yeah, well. She’s not what you’d call a motherly type. Never has been. The complete opposite of your mother. Anyway, I agreed to go up there next weekend. She wants me to see what she’s working on.” He rolls his eyes, clearly unenthused with the idea.
“Wait a minute. Have you not gone to see her yet?”
“No. I haven’t had time to go up to her place, and she’d never put herself out and come down here to see me. So …” He shrugs and goes back to eating his dinner.
I hardly know what to say. “Well, maybe things will improve if you spend a bit of time together?”
“No, they won’t.” His relaxed body language of earlier has morphed into a stiffened spine and clenched hands.
“It might be what you both need. A bit of time together.”
He snorts, scowling at his bowl of pasta.
“Greer, I’m thirty-two years old, and she has never shown the slightest interest in me yet. I doubt she’s going to start now.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to argue with him. And if he wasn’t injured maybe I would. But now isn’t the time to stir him up, so I go back to eating my pasta, which suddenly tastes like cardboard and disappointment.
“That’s my family, Greer. Not just Mum. Dad too. Nobody cares about anyone except themselves. It’s always been the same, and it’s not going to change now. I’m no different. Selfish and self-absorbed to the end.”
This is absolutely not true. He’s been there for all three of my brothers, always, and has never been anything but appreciative of my parents. Despite having been away for such a long time. I don’t think he missed a card or a call for even one birthday or Christmas.
“You …” One look at his face has me swallowing my words. His jaw is set and his beautiful lips have almost disappeared into a thin, grim line. He’s convinced himself and nothing I can say right now will change his mind.
We finish our dinner in strained silence, and once we’ve cleared the table, I make my excuses and leave. I can’t shake the image of the look on his face—a little boy lashing out in hurt at the person nearest him. It just sucks it happened to be me. It felt like he was trying to hurt me, maybe before I hurt him. Or to push me away, warn me to keep my distance. Regardless, if he thinks he’s scared me off, he’s got another thing coming. At least now I have an idea where his head is at. Not to mention his heart. Which is much more vulnerable than I imagined.
The next morning when I’m getting my yoga mat out of the spare room, I realise Josh has left his car keys on the bedside table. Rather than stew on the argument Josh and I had last night, I decide to hop on a bus and head down to Manly after my class.
I’m relieved to see the tarp is still secure over the roof of the house from the front, and I pick my way down the overgrown side path to check it from the back. Josh’s wetsuit is in a soggy heap under the clothesline. I shake off as much water as I can manage and bundle it up into the boot of Josh’s car. The surfboard is safe inside, miraculously unscathed by the falling tree.
There’s a car park access card in the console, so I drive the car back to Josh’s place and put it in his spot in the communal garage under the apartment block. I toss up what to do with the key and decide since it’s a nice day, I’ll walk up to North Sydney.
