Skylar laughed. “No, thanks. I’m a widow. I’ve explained this. It’s different when the last man you slept with actually dies, and is the father of your children, and so forth. With a divorce, you can hate him and get your revenge. With a death, not so much. Do you really want to have this convo at this moment? Aren’t you missing out on some … drinking and flirting, or whatever?” Which still didn’t sound all that good to her, sorry. Screaming out so-called witty banter in a bar, pretending to be … what? A flight attendant, about to jet off to the bright lights of Paris? A PR for an international luxury brand? A vivacious young thing with breasts that bounced in perky fashion as she danced, because she was wearing only nipple covers? The thought was making her laugh. It was also making her tired. And all right, she might have a problem, dating-wise. Wanting-to-date-wise.Fearing-to-date-wise. She was admitting it. To herself, anyway.
“Mum,”Finlay called from the lounge. “You’re missing it! One of them just clubbed a wallaby! Stop crying, George. He wassupposedto kill it! He has to eat. That’s thepoint.”
“I have to go,” Skylar said. “A wallaby died. Good luck with the brothers.”
“Pathetic,” Jess said. “Just pathetic. You realize that it dries up if you never use it, right?”
“I’ll take my chances,” Skylar said. And rang off.
Would she watch Zane in action once the kids had gone to bed? Well, yes, she would, because she was recording it, and saving it for a time when she could give him her full attention. She wasn’t going to tell Jess that, though. Her fantasies were nobody’s business but her own.
The following Saturday night wasn’t quite as rainy, fortunately. “Fortunately” because she, her granddad, and the kids were all in the car, headed south to Waikato Chiefs stadium in Hamilton to watch the Chiefs play the Blues.
Why? Because her granddad had insisted that they all go down to the last Blues match of the season. Not only that, but they were spending the night at a motel afterward.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t possibly afford that,” she’d said when her granddad had broached the subject—unfortunately, justafter she’d opened the electric and gas bills. The electric was up twelve percent from last year, and the gas fifteen. Then there were the local rates, which had gone up another eight percent, and as for food! However high her mortgage bill sometimes seemed, she knew she was fortunate to own her home, or who knew how much she’d be paying in rents? Her granddad helped out where he could, but he was no multimillionaire. She felt lucky that she could househim. They were helping each other, was the idea.
Never mind. She’d manage.They’dmanage. They always had. But then there were—well, times like this. “Sorry, I can tell you want to go, but I can’t afford any of it,” she’d told Granddad when he’d mentioned the rugby plan, wishing that her voice didn’t sound so bleak, that her throat didn’t feel so tight. “The cheapest tickets must be over thirty dollars apiece. We’d need at least two rooms in the motel, too, and meals. All the kids need new shoes and new jackets, they’ve grown so much. George absolutely refuses to wear Olive’s old one, even though it’s blue. It may look abitless like a boy’s jacket than it possibly might, but honestly. He’s six! You could go by yourself, though, if you like. Or we could have a pizza night here at home, maybe play some board games. That’s always a good icebreaker.”
Her granddad had waited through all of that, then said, “This will be my shout,” in a rather grand manner. “All of it. The tickets, the hot dogs and chips and fizzy drinks, the motel rooms. Of which we will indeed be getting two. One for you, and one for the kids.”
Skylar had stared at him, then raised her hands to the sky. “I can’t even— I have so many questions. First, how canyouafford it? Second: where are you planning to sleep?”
“Ah,” Geoffrey said mysteriously, laying his finger alongside his nose. “That’d be telling.”
“You’re taking your lady friend to therugby?Probably inthe rain? This is her dream date? Don’t women normally want to go to the … the art museum? Or Hamilton Gardens, maybe, for a lovely wander round and a stop at the cafe, if it has to be Hamilton. Though why it would have to be Hamilton, I can’t imagine. What’s in Hamilton that you can’t find in Auckland, other than a two-hour drive in traffic?”
“You’re sounding too much older than your years,” Granddad said. “Where’s your positivity? Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I must have mislaid it. You’re not the first to have noticed.”
“Well, you’d better find it again,” he said, “because you’re missing out on life. We’re going to splash out just this once, because Maureen and I have decided that it’s time for the families to meet. Casually, you know, and where nobody has to make a fuss with cooking and that. Where better than the rugby? We’ll have a relaxed brekkie the next day—no worries, that’s in the budget, too—and a leisurely drive home, and you may even find you’ve had a bit of a holiday.”
“And putting the kids in a separate room?” she asked. “Whose idea was that? I can’t imagine the motel owner will be best pleased. Imagine the chaos.” Who knew what Finlay would lead his siblings into, left to his own devices? Probably stage a reenactment of some true-crime story for the horrified adults to discover. Which was funny, so she had to laugh, didn’t she? Even though, of course, that would be reprehensible.
“Connecting rooms,” her granddad said. “I made sure of it. And as Maureen has great-grandkids of her own, we thought—why not? It’ll be a treat for all of them, make them feel independent, like an adventure. You can even bring the board games if you like.”
“The kids’ parents are coming along also, you mean? It reallyisa family meetup, then. Are you moving a bit fast,though, introducing whanau so soon, getting—well, serious—this quickly?”
Her granddad scoffed. “How long do you imagine I have to move this thing along? Maureen’s not going to be interested in caring for me after my stroke, or once prostate cancer takes away my vital functions. Not unless I have her well and truly hooked first, anyway.”
“Your vital … functions.” She had to laugh. “What a shocking conversation we’re having. All right, if it will make you happy. And if you’re sure you can afford it. Itwouldbe fun to have a night out.”
“There you are,” he said. “Fun for both of us. I’ve got a new lease on life these past months. I’ve felt like quite a young man at times, to tell you the truth. Full of beans. Your Gran’s been gone for six years, and I … well, I’ve got lonely, haven’t I? Had a bad year or two there at the start, and when you needed me, I jumped at the chance to come and help. And now I need something more.Youneed something more, as we’re on the topic. Time to shake the dust off our boots and live a little.”
Her heart softened. How could it not? “I’m glad,” she said, “really. But you aren’t planning on moving out, are you?” Her stomach gave a bit of a lurch at that. “Of course you can if that’s what you need, and I’ll manage somehow, but?—”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” her granddad said, which wasn’t exactly a “no,” was it? Howwouldshe manage if he left? Finlay wouldn’t be old enough to care for the others, legally or otherwise, until he was fourteen, and that was three years away!
She wanted to put her head between her knees and breathe, but forced herself to think rationally. She’d manage somehow, the same way she’d done all along. The kids could come to her classroom after school. Before school, too, for that matter. Wasn’t it fortunate that she was a teacher? She’d be home during the school holidays, which meant shewouldn’t even need to find a carer. Her granddad might still be willing to do some emergency care if somebody was ill, or so she devoutly hoped. She’d just have to take the kids with her to do the shopping and all, the way she had when they were small, and they could help her more around the house, which they should be doing anyway. It wouldn’t all have to be on her, and families that pulled together stayedtogether. Who knew? They might even grow closer. This could be bonding, couldn’t it?
Not that the kids would see it that way at first, so she’d have to put a smile on her face and sell it. She could do that.
She was going to have to find a way to do more holidays, too, if she were going to convince the kids that all this was a positive development. She should be doing that anyway. Why hadn’t she? A spot of depression, possibly. Well past time to pull up her socks and get on with things.
A stay in a holiday park, maybe? They could get a room at a lodge, or a wee cabin—on a beach, possibly even in the Coromandel, her favorite place—and experience the kind of sun- and sand-filled days she’d enjoyed in her childhood. The kids would make friends, would climb on the playground and swim in the sea and collect shells on the beach. They’d all eat the simplest meals possible and come back tired and relaxed. Never mind that at this moment, it all sounded like too much planning and too much work. That just showed you how much she needed to do it.
What would a holiday like that cost? Still less than a hundred dollars a night, surely, for a one-room cabin with shared bath and kitchen. That was entirely doable for a week, wasn’t it, if they economized? They could be saving money on food, for one thing. More kumara and carrots and spinach, fewer tomatoes and cucumber and avocados. Tinned tuna and salmon, and more dried beans, too, andnogourmet meat pies, no matter how long a day she’d had or how much she lovedthem. Firmness of purpose, that was the idea. Consider this—with a new diet andher weights routine, she might even fit into her bikini by summer, and be willing to be seen in it on that holiday. There was no reason she had to buy any new clothes for herself for a year or two, either. If she wasn’t fashionable, or if, unimaginably, she went down a size or two under that new plan and her jeans weren’t tight anymore—well, loose jeans were in, right? Jess had said so. And who would care what she wore anyway? Her pupils certainly didn’t. They mostly liked it when her clothes were bright or the colors were pretty, and she had that covered.
