She’s going to warn me off whatever she thinks is going on here with Audrey and Rachael. ‘See you at Parker’s assembly tomorrow?’ I say instead and she retreats, annoyed.
As they pull away, I’m hit by a wistful pang, as if Parker and I are joined by a rubber band that stretches thin in our absence and that I’m worried might snap. Equally, away from Maggie, it’s as if I can breathe again—a necessary distance keeping our disjointed family afloat. It’s only when the taillights disappear that I exhale and remind myself, perhaps for the hundredth time, that this is all exactly the way it needs to be.
9
AUDREY
After a minor scuffle about who is sitting where, Rach pushes me into the front seat of Fraser’s sensible sedan and slips into the back, beside his daughter’s empty booster seat. We buckle up and wait as he gives way to Joshua, who roars off in a sleek black Mercedes, fierce energy palpable through the accelerator.
‘Where are we heading?’ Fraser asks, absolute Teflon to his brother’s showboating. Another green flag for our list.
‘Could you drop us in Dickson at mine?’ Rach asks. ‘Audrey’s staying with me.’
His eyes flash at me as he pulls into the stream of traffic, but he doesn’t pry into my private affairs, so naturally I take that silence and shovel into it an unnecessarily detailed explanation about my living situation.
‘You might recall I was sacked,’ I say.
He checks his blind spot, changes lanes, and says, ‘Something about your sudden interest in polar marine life?’
‘To be fair, Auds, you did immortalise your boss’s pompous arse in song,’ Rach argues.
‘It wasgood, too,’ I defend. ‘I was particularly fond of “Six Minutes”. You know, the tap-dancing number about billable increments?’
As Fraser swings into a side street, I notice the crinkles around his eyes, and for a moment I’m disproportionately proud that my comment has placed them there. Perhaps it’s the former doctoral student in me, and maybe I’ll forever grasp for validation from his ilk, but I am quietly thrilled at the idea that I might have said something clever enough to amuse him.
‘Anyway, my theatrics in the office have brought my rental situation undone,’ I explain. ‘It’s fine, though.’It really isn’t.‘I’m sure Rach’s couch is just temporary.’
She has said I can stay as long as I like, but she’s in a tiny one-bedroom apartment and there’s only so long I can couch surf without scuffing the friendship.
Fraser inches his window down and clears his throat. Then he’s honked at from behind for missing a green light, and we’re all forced to wait out another cycle at the intersection.
‘Everything okay there, driver?’ Rach asks from the back.
‘It’s just …’ He glances at me, unsure. ‘I’m currently sifting through a disenchanting bunch of applications for someone to take my spare room and help with Parker.’
Is he suggesting—
‘I should have admitted I was out of my depth months ago. Just couldn’t bring myself to have to navigate around my own kitchen with someone I don’t know.’
‘GO!’ Rach yells as the lights change, and Fraser and I all but leap from our seats.
‘But you don’t knowme,’ I remind him.Not really.
‘Nonsense, Audrey.’ Driving off, he seems to regain control of both the traffic and his composure. ‘You saved my life at Zoe’s party. One more second with Rachael’s ruffian of an ex-boyfriend and he’d have gone for a knockout blow.’
There is no way this man would be volunteering to involve me in his domestic affairs if he’d seen Rach and me at her place last week, scoffing Pringles and wine, surrounded by piles of my worldly belongings and huddled over her laptop, forty minutes through his presentation on ‘Advances in Oceanographic Data Assimilation Techniques’ from some Toronto climate conference he headlined eighteen months ago. I’d nearly searched him on LinkedIn before she reminded me he might have a member account that shows who’s stalked his page.
‘I don’t think renting a room from you would be a very good idea,’ the logical part of me declares. My unemployed self argues that house-sharing, rather than renting a whole place, would ease my financial quandary, and the musician in me is thrilled. But I’m meant to be running miles from this man, am I not?
‘Speaking of Connor, I’m thinking of rejoining Tinder,’ Rach announces. It’s an outright lie designed to push me out of my comfort zone and into Fraser’s spare bedroom. She’s never been on Tinder. With all her cybersecurity expertise, she doesn’t trust the apps. ‘Things are getting a bit cramped in Dickson. Of course, you could always move in with your sister,’ she suggests.
No, I could not.
They’re moving me around like a chess piece, and I can’t help feeling woefully behind. Career at a standstill. No partner. No home. No kids, not that I want those, and—Oh! That’s my perfect out!‘The thing is, I’m really not great with children,’ I admit. ‘I mean, your daughter seems delightful, but I’d be a bad influence, so—’
Waiting patiently now on Northbourne Avenue, he turns to me and says, ‘A bad influence how? All the classical music and kickarse heroism at parties?’
This man seems to be labouring under the mistaken impression that I am a far more interesting version of myself than I really am; nevertheless, I’m positively flushed at the compliment.
