‘Please, Onisan.’ My lips felt numb. ‘Please.’
Isamu closed his eyes. He knew as well as I did that I wouldn’t use the formal form of ‘older brother’ unless I was extremely serious, extremely desperate, or both.
Then, to my surprise, Chess spoke. ‘That was Fiona, right? If she needs you, you should go.’
Isamu looked at her for a moment, then exhaled. ‘Fine.’
The relief hit me so strongly I almost sagged with it. ‘Thank you,’ I told him. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’
Fiona was waiting for me in the school carpark. ‘Thank you!’ she exclaimed as I got out of the car. ‘Oh my goodness, Satoshi, I owe you big time for this.’
She was in a dark blue blouse, half-tucked into jeans, with sensible shoes. She was wearing minimal makeup, had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and was the loveliest thing I had ever seen.
‘No problem at all.’ I bent down to peck her on the cheek, the faintest shadow of what I actually wanted to do, which was shove her up against the side of my car, wrap her ponytail around my fist, and kiss her hard. ‘If there’s a problem that can be solved with booze, I’m your man.’
I rolled my sleeves up to my elbows, folding each cuff three times over. ‘I might need some help carrying things, though.’ I took the trolley out of my back seat and hefted the keg of beer I’d taken from my cool room onto it.
‘Okay.’ Fiona’s voice was faint. I glanced at her as I hauled a case of wine out of the boot, and found her gaze fixed on my forearms.
I winked at her. She flushed pink. ‘Let me, um, go find some dads.’
The barbecue was on the school oval. I spotted Lex on the fringes of a gaggle of pre-teens, looking uncomfortably dressed up. I raised a hand to them as I wheeled the keg over the grass, and they visibly brightened as they waved back.
‘Everyone, this is my friend Satoshi from Tsundoku down on the Bellerive high street,’ Fiona announced, as I set the keg down next to the hastily-set-up trestle table on which the dads she’d recruited had put the cases of wine, ‘and he comes bearing booze!’
A cheer went up, and people began to converge on us, slowly but surely, like a horde of zombies. ‘So parents can drink, hey?’ I said, wiping my wrist over my forehead before starting to takewine bottles out of the cases. It was a warm night, and I’d started to sweat.
‘They sure can.’ Fiona’s tone was wry as she helped me. ‘You should have seen the despair when they realised they’d drunk themselves dry.’
‘Good, because I need them to drain this thing.’ I tapped the keg with my foot as I attached a bike pump to the coupler, something I would never even dream of doing for anyone but her. ‘I don’t have a portable CO2 system to hand, so I’m about to commit a horrible crime and pump oxygen instead, which means the beer will oxidise in about twelve hours.’
‘You’re not going to have a problem, trust me – Hi, Mei-Lin, what can I get you? We’ve got a great selection here.’
We slipped into that same effortless service rhythm we’d found on that awful, perfect night last year. Fiona poured wine, laughing with some of the other parents. I tapped the keg and, between the consistent tempo of pouring and pumping, got accosted by some dads who wanted to have a discussion about craft beer.
I felt Fiona’s eyes on me again as they finally left and there was a brief lull. ‘I’ve missed you,’ I commented, pumping air into the jury-rigged keg.
‘I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry about last week, but the divorce hearing hit me harder than I expected, and then there was thisemail, and…’
Her voice trailed off. I looked over at her. Her gaze was fixed on my hands, following the up-and-down stroke of the pump.
‘I – um – I was going to say that I’m still a bit shaky and that maybe we should stick to second base tomorrow,’ she said, ‘but – um…’
It was probably a blessing that Lex chose that moment to come bounding up, because otherwise, I had no idea how I would have maintained my grip on my control. ‘Hi Satoshi!’
‘Hi Lex.’ I bumped my knuckles against theirs. ‘Congratulations on graduating primary school!’
‘Thanks.’ They beamed, flag pins winking on their collar in the bright overhead lights of the oval. ‘Did Mum tell you I won an award?’
‘She didn’t! Tell me about this award.’
‘It’s the Quiet Achiever award. Do you want to see?’
‘Of course I do.’
Lex showed me their certificate, and I was midway through congratulating them when another gaggle of dads approached. ‘Duty calls,’ I said. ‘But that’s amazing, yeah? Hot chocolate is on me next time your mum brings you in.’
‘Cool,’ they said. ‘Thanks, Satoshi.’
