“What is that, anyway?” Jess asked. She was tall and thin and, she’d moaned on more than one occasion, “can’t find a curve to save my life.” She was eating a ham and cheese sandwich and crisps. The ham in it was a good four centimeters thick, too. Jess had to open her mouth wide to even take a bite.
“Buddha bowl,” Skylar said, only slightly glumly. “Chickpeas, roasted sweet potatoes, radishes, carrots, red cabbage, and kale, with some brown rice. It has a dressing, though. Tahini and lemon juice.”
Jess peered at it. “Doesn’t it make you a bit …”
“A bit what?” Skylar took another bite and chewed.
“My mum would say, ‘Doesn’t it give you wind?’ I’m not as proper as all that, so I’ll just say that I’d be farting my way around the classroom like a steam engine if I ate that.”
“Could be worse,” Skylar said. “The recipe suggested cauliflower rice.”
“Definitely a bridge too far,” Jess agreed. “Ugh.”
“And five dollars fifty at Woolie’s for the frozen bag that only serves four. Almost a dollar a serving, and when you spend that, what do you get?”
“Cauliflower,” Jess said.
“Exactly. Whereas I got five KGs of brown rice for less than twenty dollars. A good fifty servings in there. Or possibly a hundred, because I haven’t even made a dent in it.” She chewed her veggies, not unlike a ruminant of some kind. It was hardnotto lose weight when you had to chew food this fibrous for this long. Although cows were fairly chubby. “How was your weekend?” she decided to ask.
“Date,” Jess said. “One of the speed-dating blokes. Drink on Saturday night at the pub. I didn’t realize he’d suggested that so he could watch the rugby. Shouting at the telly and high-fiving with his mates almost the entire time. I said that I was disappointed he hadn’t suggested something more romantic, and he stared at me like I’d grown a third eye and said, “Really? Heaps more fun than sitting across a table with a glass of wine, though.” She sighed and took another bite of delicious, moist, thick-cut ham. “So that was that.”
“Men will disillusion you,” Skylar said.
“I know, right?” Jess shook her head, then set down her sandwich and grabbed some crispy, salty, crunchy crisps. She spun the bag toward Skylar. “Want some?”
Skylar looked at the crisps gloomily. “No. Thin end of the wedge. I need to keep my streak going. I ate duck salad forbreakfast yesterday, though, when I could’ve had French toast with banana whipped custard, maple syrup,andtoasted marshmallow ice cream. Major resistance to temptation.”
Jess stared at her, the crisps forgotten. Jess could do that: sit there with an open bag of crisps and not reach for one. “Who took you? I’m never going to believe that you bought duck salad for yourself, let alone the other thing, though it probably wasn’t as dear.”
“That’s where you’d be wrong,” Skylar said. “The French toast was thirty-nine dollars, and the duck salad was only twenty-nine. Another reason I resisted. Even if I’m not paying, thirty-nine dollars forbreakfast?And that’s not counting the coffee.”
Jess planted her forearms on the table and stared hard. “Give it up. Who was it?” Her eyes went wide, and she pointed a manicured finger at Skylar. “Your granddad watched the kids while you went out, and you spent the night!Andhe took you someplace with forty-dollar French toast the next morning. Either he’s well in funds, or you’rereallytalented in bed.”
“Shhh.” Skylar glanced around. Yes, there was David Sacklett, looking straight at her. She knew she was turning beetroot red, but how could you help it? “I did not,” she hissed at Jess. “Stop. Also, do you have a folding table and chairs?”
“Why would I have a folding table and chairs? I’m single, and my flat’s about forty-five square meters. Maybe Ishouldhave a folding table and chairs. It would give me room to do that workout you’ve been doing. I notice that your bum is looking extra-enticing these days, too.”
Again, she didn’t say it softly. Now David wasreallystaring. “Because I’m doing a barbecue on Sunday,” Skylar said, as airily as she could manage. “My granddad has a new girlfriend—well, I suspect she’s notthatnew, but new to us. And I’m having her whanau round for a barbecue on Sunday. That’s who got lucky on Saturday night. My granddad.”
“Oh.” Jess looked deflated, as well she might. Then she stared at Skylar again. “That still doesn’t explain the breakfast. Your granddad surely didn’t say to the new flame, “That was lovely. So passionate. So romantic. You make me feel a new man. Let’s go out for a leisurely, extravagant brekkie with my daughter and her twelve kids. Where was this brekkie, anyway? I don’t know anyplace with a menu like that.”
Skylar sighed. “Hamilton. The Little Honey Café. And it wassixkids. Not passionate and not romantic, no worries, except maybe for Granddad and Maureen.Theysat at the extreme end of the table and held hands.”
“Hamilton?” Some more staring. “You drove to Hamilton for breakfast? What the hell’s in Hamilton?”
“OK,” Skylar said, “I’m going to tell you, because it’s not a big deal. It’ssonot a big deal. Hamilton for the rugby. Would you believe, Granddad’s new love is Zane Mahuta’s grandmother. Small world, eh. Zane has three kids himself, and fun fact, my Finlay and his Scarlett loathe each other. Good times.”
“So you went to Hamilton,” Jess said, “and …”
Another sigh. “Do not shriek. There’s no shrieking allowed, because there’s nothing to shriek about. And don’t tell anyone, either, because it may be … well, it’s notimproper,not at all, but it couldlookimproper. And you know how people talk around here.”
“That’s because most people around here are about six years old. No choice but to focus on the staff. Come on. Tell. The bell’s going to ring in about ten minutes, and Icannotget through another afternoon with Billy Purdue without this story. Did I tell you that he takes his—we’ll call it the ‘contents of his nose’—and flicks them at people with his ruler during maths? Why did I choose this career? It certainly wasn’t for the brilliant pay, or for the swarthy, sexy male colleagues intheir well-cut men’s tailoring. Or, of course, their skin-tight uniforms.Tell.”
“Four sentences,” Skylar said. “Drive to the rugby. Stay at a motel. Go to breakfast the next morning. Motel and breakfast accompanied by the Mahuta family.”
“So was Zane there too?” Jess asked. “After the rugby?”
“Yes. That was the point, introducing the families. Did I mention that our kids hate each other?”
