Trent takes me to renew my driver’s license. Lets me sit behind the wheel of his car.
“You want to drive again,” he says simply. “You should.”
I stop-start a lot. He talks me through it, patient as ever, until I’m steady, driving smoothly up and down The Parade.
Even in a car, he loves me.
I park by the shore. The engine clicks to quiet. He leans close and murmurs, “You’re having Purples.”
I know you know. But do you know I know you know?
When will either of us speak it?
I grip the steering wheel.
Against the wall of ache, I turn and kiss him.
“Whanau and friends picnic,” I call to Grandpa over the rock he’s blasting. “I’m heading down with Moana. Trent’s bringing you and Sara there.”
Trent raises a hand, a casual wave off andsee you soon. Effortless, like he’s starting to believe: I’ll stay.
But then, he walks me out the door and watches me jog down the lane. Like there’s still a wee part that’s nervous.
Maybe... maybe some words need to be voiced after all.
My step hitches on the stairs, and then I grip the railing. Later, after the picnic.
Moana picks me up at the Berhampore shops, and we go on a mission for ice cream.
“Actually pretty decent weather for it,” I murmur, taking in Welly on a good day. (Nothing beats it.)
“It’ll be awesome,” Moana agrees. “There’s even a surprise for you.”
I lean in, eager, and she swats me away. “You’ll see. Now let’s get this cooler box to the beach.”
We stash the loot not too far from the dunes where Trent and I chased the chicken, mocked by kiddos.
My lips curl, and Moana catches it.
“It’s nothing,” I say. “Nothing.”
“Rubbish.”
She’s right. It’s everything.
Tamariki dribble in for the picnic with a parent or two, and they light up at their ice creams.
“I see your surprise coming,” Moana says, and then pivots to a cry of her name. “There’re the cousins. Back in a bit.”
I wave her off and then search for my surprise.
My stomach balls.
Holly is racing across the sand in a wetsuit, a towel slung around her neck.
I thought she couldn’t make it?
She jumps over a lone boogie board and skids to a sand-whipping halt before me. “Dylan!”
