Chapter Seven
When Ryan walked into Petey and Nisha’s backyard for the family barbecue a couple of weeks later, Tim was both rapt and scared as shit. The happiness won out, though it faded as he watched Ryan greet everyone but him.
He tracked the hugs, handshakes, and fist bumps, pretending to pay attention to the sausages on the barbecue, tongs gripped in his hand.
“Turn the snags!” Pete exclaimed.
The smell of burning registered, and Tim did, cursing under his breath. His skin itched with eyes on him, and he tried to laugh it off. “Jonno likes it well done!”
Jonno, Pete’s older brother, called out, “Bit of char, not black and blue, ya drongo!”
Everyone laughed except Tim and Ryan, who grabbed a stubby and ignored him. Tim wanted to pull him off into the corner by the lemon tree and have it out, but he had to be patient. If he went too hard, he’d spook him.
So, Tim stayed put at the barbie, doing a better job on the next batch of meat. Most people had brought their own folding chairs, along with plates of salad and desserts to add to the spread Nisha and Pete had out on the dining table under the al fresco roof.
Along with the sizzle of meat, the yard hummed with laughter and conversation. There was no pool, but they’d set up a sprinkler for the kids to run through on a strip of fake grass. The little ones shrieked and laughed, and Tim remembered the days when Ryan would’ve been one of them.
Today, Ryan had parked himself in the sun, talking with one of his teenage cousins, a girl named Matilda.
He wore a white singlet, and his bare shoulders were pink.
Tim had half a mind to ask if he was wearing sunscreen but knew how that would go.
His gaze caught on the bull tattoo on Ryan’s forearm.
With no warning, he was so choked up he couldn’t breathe. This was his son. It was all he could do not to run over and haul him into a hug.
Everyone ate and drank, and Tim took a few deep breaths as he grabbed another pale ale, the ice water inside the esky shockingly cold in the afternoon heat.
He talked and laughed with his cousins and aunties and uncles, relieved that Pete’s mum had evidently restrained herself and not invited a bunch of single women.
It was good to see the family again. Great, even. But his mind was on his son. Tim had done wrong, and it’d weighed on him for more than a decade.
Did Lachlan know? Not that he was in a spot to judge. The other lifeguards? Christ, Tim hoped not. Humiliation heated his face as he imagined it. Surely Teddy wouldn’t have asked him back if he knew what an untrustworthy shit Tim had been.
He was fairly sure the family didn’t know since no one had ever brought it up, and Petey or Nisha would’ve at some point over the years. He liked to think that was loyalty from Ryan.
A murmur rippled through the crowd, and he looked up from the fresh round of burgers on the grill to see Maria walk into the yard carrying a tray of what looked like her famous lamingtons. Nisha exclaimed in delight and hugged her, almost knocking off Maria’s wide-brimmed straw hat.
Her pink flowered dress flowing in the breeze from the powerful fan that slowly rotated back and forth by the table of food, Maria dropped off the lamingtons and made her way directly to Bull.
She smiled and greeted a few people on her way with warm hugs, but didn’t stop for more than a few seconds, determinedly heading to the barbecue.
Tim was very aware of Ryan and the rest of the family watching as he handed off the barbie duties to Pete and hugged Maria tightly. She let her hat tumble as she squeezed him with both arms.
Even after years, it was still familiar to feel her willowy body against his. The scent of her—not perfume or lotions, but her—brought back a rush of memories. Some good. Some bad.
She was tall, and he whispered in her ear without having to stoop. “Sure this is a good idea?”
“We’ll soon find out. Nish talked him into coming, and now we can be a public united front.” Maria stepped back and beamed at him. “It is good to see you again, Bull.”
“You too, Mimi.”
“Look at that silver coming in.” She brushed her fingers over his temples in a strangely familiar gesture. “How did we get so bloody old?”
“Wouldn’t know it looking at you.”
She laughed. “Always a gentleman.”
He bent to pick up her hat, brushing off any dirt. Then Ryan was there with a furrowed brow saying, “Mum? What are you doing here?”
“Hello, love!” She pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek. “It’s been far too long since I saw the Bullocks. This one in particular.” She patted Tim’s arm.
Ryan scowled. “Mum, I—”
“You’re not going to make a scene at your Auntie Nish and Uncle Petey’s, are you?” she asked.
He pressed his lips together. “Nah.”
“Good.” She waved at someone. “I need to make the rounds, and then we can have a nice lunch. As a family.”
As she moved off, Ryan shot Tim a glare. “Did you put her up to this?”
“No,” he said honestly.
Ryan grumbled something and returned to his cousins.
Later, Tim ducked into the house to use the toilet, and Pete told him to use the one in the main bedroom.
In the hall, he passed framed photos of Nisha and Pete’s kids along with family photos, pausing by one at Barkers on Christmas Day.
Tim had been rostered off, so he’d joined the mob in Santa hats having a swim under blue skies.
It had been one of the last Chrissies before they’d moved east. There he was in the group shot with an arm around Maria in her cover-up and huge floppy hat and the other around Ryan’s skinny shoulders, the three of them in the back since they were tall. They grinned along with everyone.
Another life.
If only Tim hadn’t gotten ideas in his head about the surf school. If he’d stayed put, he and Ryan might never have fallen out. Maria wouldn’t have met Warren, and they could still be together.
The idea wasn’t comforting the way it once would’ve been. Maria loved Warren. Being poly made her happy, and it would’ve happened no matter where they lived. It should happen. It was right for her.
A toilet flushed as Tim entered Nisha and Pete’s dim bedroom, and Ryan exited the bathroom, stopping short.
“What?” Ryan demanded.
“I need to take a piss.”
Before Ryan could respond, Maria appeared behind Tim in the doorway. “Ah, here you both are. Ryan, we need to have a family meeting, but we don’t want to have a row and spoil the party. We don’t want to have a row at all, but, well.”
“Gotta go soon,” Ryan said. “Having the boys over tonight before a concert. I missed Daz’s stag, so we’re making up for it.”
“Lovely. We’ll pop by yours for a chat. Auntie Nish is putting out the pav now, and then we can be on our way.” She smiled at Tim. “Warren dropped me off since my car’s in the shop. You’ll drive me?”
He blinked. “Uh, sure.”
“Perfect. Let’s have dessert and say our goodbyes.”
“Mum!” Ryan called as Maria swept from the room.
Tim lifted his hands and followed before remembering he still needed to piss. Soon enough, he was behind the wheel of his ute with Maria adjusting the air con beside him.
“Have you always been able to steamroll us like that?” he asked.
She laughed shortly. “No. I let you and Ryan stop talking for years. But I’ve been working with my therapist. Ryan would avoid this conversation for another decade if we let him, and I might too.”
Tim had to admit, “Same. I should tell him I’m bi, for starters.” His palms felt instantly sweaty. Saying the words, “I’m bisexual” should’ve been simple enough at this point given how many men he’d gotten off with.
“Yes. We need to get it done.” Maria took a deep breath and blew it out. “I need to tell him the truth. There’s never going to be a perfect time. Anya—my therapist—thinks it could help if he’s on home turf and feels comfortable in his surroundings.”
“Whatever you think is best.”
She sat back, apparently satisfied with the cool air from the vents. After a minute of silence as they left Armadale and headed back to the coast, she asked, “So, are you seeing anyone?”
Tim groaned. “Can we not?”
“Why? I’m seeing a new bloke. David. He’s sixty-two and very…distinguished.”
“And where’d you meet Davo the senior citizen?”
She rolled her eyes. “David and I met at a cafe. We were both reading, and we chatted about our books.”
“Woz doesn’t mind?”
“No,” she said carefully and slowly. “Because we’re polyamorous, as you know. He’s very happy with his girlfriend, June. And Angela once in a while, and there’s a bloke in Scarborough. And me.”
“Good.” At her skeptical glance, he added, “Really, I mean it. It’s good that you’re all happy. I still can’t wrap my head around it, but that’s my problem.”
“Thank you, Bull. Though it’s not a problem being monogamous. It just doesn’t work for me and my needs. I was sorry to see you and Sarah broke up.”
“How do you know about Sarah?”
“I stalked her on Instagram, obviously. There was a picture of the two of you at Tony’s barbie at the beginning of summer.”
“Didn’t realize you still followed our Gold Coast mates.”
“Don’t see why I shouldn’t. So, who—”
“No one. Haven’t met any women lately.”
“What about men?”
Gripping the wheel, he groaned again. “Mimi, please.”
“What? Have you ever tried actually dating a bloke? You’re bisexual. Why only date women?”
He hit the brakes as a light turned yellow. “Because I like getting off with blokes. Having a wank in the toilets at the pub. It’s easy.”
“No pesky feelings.”
“Exactly.” He knew the “internalized homophobia” speech was coming.
Instead, she asked, “When was the last time you had an encounter with a man?”
Tim pressed the gas as the light flipped green, memories of Lachlan in Bali storming his brain.
The way Lachlan had held his breath when Tim had brushed that hair off his cheek, and the way they’d laughed sitting together as night fell, and swam in companionable silence later in the lagoon. And Lachlan’s mouth—
“Whoever this man was—what’s wrong with having a beer with him? Talking to him? Going to dinner? To a movie?”
“Because that’s what you do with a woman!”
“You’ve never wanted to spend more time with a bloke? Get to know him?”
Tim wanted to deny it, but… “Maybe a few times over the years. But I have plenty of mates. I don’t need more.”
Maria laughed. “You do realize your partner can also be your mate? Weren’t we?”
“Yes, but that was different.”
“How was it different? Imagine this last man you had an encounter with—”
“Christ,” he muttered.
“Bull, it’s perfectly fine to be hetero-romantic. But I really feel like you’re closing off this avenue with so much potential for happiness because of internalized—”
“There is it,” he grumbled.
“Well, yes. There it is because here it is.” She waved her hand up and down at him. “The internalized homophobia is in the ute with us right now.”
“What do you want me to do?” he demanded, then softened his tone. “I’m fine.”
“I want you to open yourself to the possibility of falling in love with a man. You insist that you’re fine—just like Ryan does, for the record—but I think you’re back home because you’re missing something in your life.”
His insides squirmed uncomfortably. “I’m home to make things right with my son.”
“Yes, finally. But I think you’re looking for more than that. And you should take your blinders off.” She raised her hands. “That’s all I’m going to say about it.”
After a moment of silence, Tim snorted. “Want to make a bet?”
“No,” she said with a laugh. “Look, it’s easy to tell you what you’re doing wrong.”
“One of your favorite pastimes.” He winked.
“Does it help that I realize I’m a hypocrite?”
He chuckled. “A little.”
As they turned onto Ryan’s street, set about five blocks back from the beach, she sighed. “I don’t want my son to be disappointed in me.”
“It’s the most shit feeling in the world.”
Her cheeks puffed as she exhaled. “He’s still going to love me, right?”
They were a block from Ryan’s, but Tim hit the brakes and pulled over so he could face her fully. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She blinked away tears, lifting her hands. “I know, I know. I’ve been working on it with Anya. This fear of abandonment. Of rejection.”
“You still loved me after I told you I stole the money from Ry’s account. Didn’t you?”
“Of course,” she whispered, wiping her cheek. “You made a mistake—a huge one—but you worked your arse off to try and get us out of debt.” She grimaced. “Then of course Ryan wouldn’t take a dime from you. You know how he is. He just gets so stuck in his ways.”
“I used to know him. I want to know him again.” He reached for her hand. “You’re Ryan’s mum. He’s always going to love you no matter what kind of poly…quad-throuple-cule thingy you’re in.”
“Even though I’m the one who broke up our marriage?”
“We both broke up our marriage, Mimi. But we were always mates. I think… I think that’s what made it even harder.”
She nodded and gripped his fingers. “How did we become such a bloody mess?”
“Fucked if I know. But we’re going to fix it.”