Chapter 15 #2
How many fillets had Zane had, though, that they’d eaten it all? She couldn’t help it; she warmed to the thought that he’d liked her cooking. First the rugby-groupie thing, and now this? She was a walking stereotype.
At that moment, the man himself came into the kitchen with a stack of plates. “Looks choice,” he said, eyeing the bowls of warm apple crumble topped with rich yellow custard. “I didn’t say enough about your food. Best thing I’ve eaten in ages.”
More warm feeling, which was why she smiled, of course.
“I’m glad. My neighbors said I should’ve fixed you roast lamb with winter veg.
I’m afraid Finlay told them who was coming to dinner, and she—the wife—had major opinions about what such a man would want to eat.
Of course, she’s well over eighty, so …”
“Nah.” He was slotting plates into the dishwasher. That meant she was looking at his back view, and his back view was something to see. Shoulders that stretched for ages, and … well, and a pretty good backside, too. “Nan cooks that way. Meat pies. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Choice, but …”
“But what?” She should be taking the apple crumble out to the table.
Instead, she was looking up at him. He must have shaved this afternoon, because his jaw looked smooth, and she’d bet that took effort.
He had enough beard for two. “Meat pies are no good? I like them more than I should, I’m afraid. ”
He smiled. “Nah. I like them too much myself. Same reason I didn’t eat as much of the noodles and more of the fish. I have to eat heaps, but the calories have to count. And I enjoy venturing beyond English cuisine sometimes.”
“The sushi and bao buns.”
“That’s it. I’m secretly sophisticated, eh.” They both smiled at that.
“So no apple crumble, then?” she asked. “Or just no custard? Or no custard and no crumble? I could scalp one of these, I suppose, and give you just the apples.”
He grabbed a bowl and held it to his chest. She laughed, and he grinned. “I’ll sin,” he said. “Like with the wine last week. I find I quite enjoy sinning with you.”
Did she have some tingles while she served pudding?
Yes, she did. That was all right. Tingles were good.
Tingles were new. This morning, when she’d been doing her chest workout, she’d felt the moves in places she certainly hadn’t before.
In the soles of her feet—the tender part, there in the middle—and in, well, the tender parts in the middle of her, too.
Just during the bench presses and flies, though, which was odd.
Could lifting weights make you more sexually responsive?
Stimulate nerve endings in certain areas that connected to other areas, in a sort of …
acupressure way? She’d bet Zane knew. She also knew she wouldn’t ask him for a million dollars.
“So,” Granddad said, the moment she’d sat down with the pudding served round. “Our announcement. Our plan.”
He looked expectant. Brimming. So did Maureen, though in a more secret, restrained way. They were holding hands under the table, too, Skylar could tell.
“Let’s have it, then,” Zane said, calm as always.
Marriage. No. They couldn’t. It had been months at most, and weren’t older people staying single these days for … for tax reasons, and inheritance reasons, and all those many other good reasons?
“We want to spend more time together,” Granddad said, and she let out her breath.
That didn’t sound like marriage. It also didn’t sound like an announcement.
What was stopping them? “And Zane travels, which means Maureen doesn’t have as much flexibility as I do.
Skylar’s home every night, but you’re not, are you, mate? ”
I could’ve done without you telling Zane that I’m home every night, Skylar thought, then realized that she’d practically told him that herself. And what was this about?
“You’re right.” Zane still sounded calm, but his eyes were watchful. “I’m not, especially at certain times of the year. Are you wanting to live together, then?”
“Not exactly.” That was Maureen. “We thought we’d ease into it. Spend more time together, as Geoffrey said. Spend our days together, at least until Skylar comes home from school and you come home from training, and, yes, some of our nights, too.”
Wait. What?
“I don’t understand,” Zane said. “What’s stopping you? What does this have to do with us? With Skylar and me, and the kids?” The exact thing Skylar was thinking.
“Well, obviously,” Maureen said, “we’d be spending most of our time here, as there’s so much more space.”
“And the man travels to see the woman, of course,” Granddad said, as if that were settled dogma.
“And when you’re off with the team,” Maureen went on, “that’s another chance, isn’t it?”
“Of course you can have your … have Geoffrey here,” Zane said. “It’s your home, too.” He was frowning, though. There was more to this, then. But what?
“So many things we’d like to do together,” Granddad said.
“Maureen wants to try my strength class at the community center, and I’ve promised to do Tai Chi and yoga with her.
Water aerobics as well. Why not? She does something like that every day.
I’d have called it discipline, but she calls it fun.
I’d like to have more fun. Maybe we’ll take up birdwatching. Watercolor painting. Who knows?”
“Uh, Granddad?” Skylar said. “You realize that the attendance at water aerobics is about ninety percent female, right? Or a hundred percent, from what I’ve seen.”
“Pity I already have a girlfriend, then,” he said.
“But a man can still look.” Maureen slapped his arm, and he laughed.
“I’ve come alive, is what it is. I always thought retirement would be a time when Frances and I would putter around together.
Do the shopping, cook dinner, fold the washing at night while we watched TV.
Maybe travel a bit before we got too old to enjoy it.
And what happened instead? She died. Same for Maureen.
We want to be useful; of course we do. But we want that other thing, too. We want to feel alive again.”
“Having somebody to love,” Maureen said, “and having them love us. A hand to hold. Somebody to kiss before we fall asleep. How I’ve missed that.”
“But we love you, Nan,” Georgia burst out. “You can hold my hand, and I will kiss you at night. You don’t have to feel lonesome.” She slid down from her chair and ran to her great-grandmother, where she threw her arms around her waist.
“I love you too, my darling,” Maureen said, cuddling her in return. “But a grown lady needs a grown man to love. And a grown man needs a grown lady.” Was it Skylar’s imagination, or did his grandmother look extremely pointedly at Zane?
“I’m going to say it,” Skylar decided, “because Zane’s too polite to.
Matchmaking had better not be any part of this, Granddad.
I’m happy for you, and I’m sure Zane is too.
But this …” She cast an arm around the table, where the older kids, at least, were gazing at their elders suspiciously.
“This ‘one big happy family’ bit hasn’t gone so well to date, let’s be honest. So of course you should spend more time with Maureen.
As long as you’ll still walk the kids to school and collect them after it, why not?
And you don’t have to help with my shopping anymore, or cook any dinners or put in my washing, either.
Single mums all over the world are doing those things every day without any help.
Besides, I’ve been thinking the kids could be doing more.
Or I should say that we need to be doing more as a whanau.
” There. That sounded mature, and never mind that she’d just realized how much she’d relied on her granddad to make her life easier.
“What a good idea,” Maureen said. She hadn’t even responded to the ‘matchmaking’ bit.
Had Skylar imagined it? And then just blurted it out in front of everybody?
How embarrassing was this? “We should do something like that ourselves over here,” she went on.
“Coddled, that’s what you kids are. Time to step up and let your great-grandmother kick up her heels a bit. ”
“Oh, brilliant,” Scarlett said. “Thanks heaps, Ms. Fairburn. I’m going to be pressed into domestic servitude, you wait.”
“Folding some washing and peeling a potato,” Zane said, “is not hard labor. I could step up more myself. Can’t do it when I’m not here, though, so there’s that.
That’s it, then? You’re over here with Nan more, Geoffrey, and staying the night sometimes?
I don’t hate you too much so far, so let’s try it and see how we go. ”
Skylar wished she could be that direct. If it didn’t work out, she’d bet Zane would just tell Granddad so outright and be done with it. Maybe she should ask for lessons.
“Fair enough,” Granddad said. He was still looking at Skylar, though.
Why? “But you see,” he said, “when Zane is gone and Maureen’s here alone, I’d be bringing the kids here after school sometimes, is the idea.
Cooking dinner together, like I said. When you’re done at school, you come by and collect them, and I’ll turn up in the morning again in time to walk them to school. Easy-peasy.”
“I don’t need walking to school,” Finlay said, flushing and glancing at Scarlett. “I haven’t needed it for years now. I walk by myself to intermediate school, the same as Scarlett probably does.”
“I don’t need it either,” Olive said, “but Granddad’s walking anyway with George, and I don’t mind.”
Scarlett looked like she was about to erupt. Zane was frowning. Skylar felt like she wanted to sink through the floor, but before she did … “May I speak to you privately?” she asked her grandfather.
“We’ll go home,” he said, “and speak as privately as you like.”
“No,” she said. “Now.” She meant it, too.
Zane rose. “Washing-up time. Come help me, kids.”
“But we don’t—” Duncan began.
Zane gave him a look. Skylar didn’t know about Duncan, but that look would have convinced her. “We do now,” he said. “You heard your Nan. Come on. You other kids can …” He seemed to be casting about for what to do with the three extra children in his house.
“I’ll read my book,” Olive said. “I’m just at the good part.”
“Georgia,” Zane said, “you’re excused from washing-up. Go play with George.”
“I’ll just sit here and eat worms, I suppose,” Finlay said.
A twist of Zane’s mouth. “Or you could find a book. Watch TV. Contemplate the mysteries of the universe.”
“Or help with the washing-up,” Scarlett said.
“Ten minutes,” Skylar said. “Maybe five. After that, I’ll … I’ll confer with you, Zane. And then we’re out of here.”