Her words echo in Kim’s head. She’s right. She’s so perfectly right. But there’s another possibility Danika didn’t say: a throuple. But Danika is straight, so that likely isn’t something that’s foremost in her mind. And to be honest, when Kim was so in love with Chris, she wouldn’t have wanted that either.
“So now,” Danika continues, “I’m choosing to let myself choose. Be open to what life brings. If that means a fireman, hose or not, that’s good. If I choose to remain single, that’s fantastic. If I choose a series of hook-ups… Well, it never was my thing, but now. Who knows? But I’m not there yet. I may never be.” She looks Kim full in the face, as if assessing the impact of her words.
Kim breathes slowly, keeping what she hopes is a supportive smile. She has no problem with hook-ups, no problem with consensual sex of any kind. She had a threesome once. At uni,a darkened room after a party. There’d been three of them in her mate’s king bed and, well… Kim remembers the evening as a hazy dream. An extremely pleasant and erotic dream. It wasn’t repeated, and that was fine. No problem. No awkwardness.
“What about you?” Danika asks. “Will you be looking?”
“I don’t know,” Kim says honestly. “But maybe. It will be the first time if I do. I’ll just go with the flow and see what happens.” Although, the sort of suburban venue she imagines Danika will suggest might limit both their options.
The door bursts open, and Cami and Bella tumble in. Both are pink from running around in the heat.
“You both look like you need a long drink of water.” Danika shifts into mum-mode, pouring two glasses from the tap, adding ice.
“Maybe ice cream?” Cami asks in the sort of voice that shows she expects a negative answer.
“Not until after lunch,” Danika says.
Kim hides a smile. Exactly what she would have said.
“When’s lunch?” Bella asks.
Kim shoots Danika a guilty look. They’ve been talking and have done nothing about food.
“Ten minutes,” Danika says. “Cami, why don’t you show Bella the letter you got from the Matildas?”
“Yes, please!” Bella’s eyes grow huge.
The girls scamper off down the hall to Cami’s room.
Danika turns away, opens the oven. A waft of steam comes out, and she prods whatever is in there with a fork. “Nearly done. Is there anything you need to do with what you brought?”
Kim shakes her head. “Not really. Just put it on the table.”
“I made a potato bake,” Danika says. “It’s simple, and Cami loves it. It has tuna in it, but I made a separate dish for you with no tuna—just cream, cheese, and mushrooms. I hope that’s okay.”
“That sounds fantastic.” Kim’s chest warms at Danika’s thoughtfulness.
She puts out the cheese and salad she brought on the table, then watches as Danika moves around her kitchen, getting out cutlery, plates, water glasses. Or rather, she watches Danika’s slim thighs under the shorts, watches the play of her forearms, and the strip of pale belly that appears as she reaches to a high cupboard for a water jug.
Danika says something, but Kim only catches, “—the girls.”
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” She shakes her head to clear the buzzing in her ears, the static that made her focus on Danika’s body rather than her words.
“Can you call the girls?” Danika repeats. “I’ll put this on the table.”
“Sure.” She turns away quickly so that Danika won’t see her flushed cheeks.Stop this, Kim. She needs to get a grip. She shouldn’t—she can’t—be ogling Danika as if she were a stranger in a pub.
It is danger and heartbreak—and somewhat weird—to think of Danika in this way.
She walks down the hall. Cami’s bedroom door is shut, so she knocks, waits, then opens it and sticks her head around the door.
The girls are sitting on Cami’s bed, heads together, as they look at the Matildas photos.
“Lunch,” Kim says.
“Yay!” Cami sets the photos carefully on the bed, and leads the way to the living area.
Danika’s vegetarian potato bake is delicious, and Kim asks for the recipe. Bella, too, is eating big, scraping her plate and asking for seconds.
