Chapter 45
FORWARD PROGRESS
Early September, and the days were getting warmer. Her fifth weekend with the kids, and they were at Zane’s house this time, which meant she’d slept in his bed last night. That could feel odd, when you’d never slept in there with him.
She was thinking that because Zane was on the landline with the kids after his match, talking to one after the other.
The call had lasted more than fifteen minutes already, and how much time did he have to chat?
He’d be out with the team, surely, on their last night on tour.
Not only that—on tour in London, which no doubt had manifest delights to offer dozens of rugby boys after an extremely hard-won victory against the Springboks.
And after a bruising five-week tour, too.
She’d been making sandwiches while all this chat was going on, because she’d needed to keep busy. Now, Georgia came into the kitchen and said, “Here’s Skylar, Dad. She’s making lunch.” And handed over the phone.
“Hi,” she said. “All right?”
“Never better,” he said. “We won, and I’m coming home. What could be better than that?” He was talking over some noise. They were out on the town after the match, then.
“What a marathon you’ve had,” she said. “You’ve done so well, but to have to fly to London from South Africa after four weeks on the road, and then have to play there after only a few days? What kind of jet lag must that have been?”
“Yeh,” he said, “but the Boks had to make the same flight. A bit mad, really, to send both teams halfway around the world when we were right there in Safa with them to begin with, but that’s rugby, eh. Got to keep up interest in both hemispheres with another Rugby World Cup looming next year.”
Another conversation that was interesting, but not precisely intimate.
It was so hard to be intimate, being this far apart for this long.
She was getting a bit weepy about it again, in fact, hearing his voice.
Not like her at all, but this entire relationship would be uncharted territory for anyone, wouldn’t it?
Even somebody as self-reliant as she knew herself to be.
He seemed to read her mind, because he said, “Same for you, though. How ya goin’, after another term?
And this one with bonus child-minding at the end of every school week?
I could be realizing that the reason I haven’t dated anybody is that it would take a warrior to cope.
Fortunate that you are one, but it’s been heaps all the same. ”
“Well, yes,” she admitted. “I won’t whinge, because it’s not as hard as what you do, but it was a relief to walk out the door yesterday and know I had three weeks of holiday ahead of me.
Not sure why this term’s felt harder, and no, that’s not really your kids.
It’s been work, but it’s been fun, too. And my kids haven’t complained about being bored once, which is a record.
What is bothering me is this bloody implant, to tell you the truth.
Makes me weepy and tired. Hormones, ugh.
I’m about to give up on it and plump for the IUD, strings or no. ”
“Of course what you’ve been doing is harder than what I’ve been,” he said.
“Are you joking? Teaching all week, then coping with six kids all weekend on your own? I come back to my hotel room in the afternoon and somebody’s cleaned the bath, made the bed, and washed my clothes.
Then I go downstairs and eat half my weight in steak and whatever else is going, and somebody else does the washing-up.
No comparison. I’m a bit lonely, yeh, but I’ve got about thirty blokes to keep me company, and precisely none of them put their hands on their hips and inform me of all the ways I’m falling down on the job as a dad.
But what’s the story with these strings? I haven’t heard about any strings.”
She double-checked that there was nobody lurking around the corner, then lowered her voice anyway.
“Apparently the strings of the IUD are stiff at first, and they may graze a man a bit if he actually reaches all the way up to the strings. Could be a nasty surprise, eh. Like harboring a biting animal up there. Startling.”
He laughed. “There’s an image I could do without. But do what you have to do. If you want to put it all on me again, no worries.”
“You mean the condom?”
“Yes. That’s what I mean. Good on ya for saying the word. Getting pretty bold there.”
“Are you sure about that? I’ve heard it doesn’t feel as good, and surely you’ve looked forward to that.
To doing it, uh, without. Also, I’d need to use a diaphragm and jelly as well if we wanted to be safe, which we do.
Takes a bit of the spontaneity out of it, wouldn’t you say, if I’m dashing to the bath as soon as you start kissing me, and then I’m wrestling with this greased silicone cap, watching it shoot across the room when I squeeze it too hard?
You can’t imagine the comic potential as it ricochets off the walls, leaving flecks of jelly in its wake.
There I’d be, crawling naked over the floor and scrubbing at the mess, while you waited outside and lost all your …
inspiration and started reading a golf magazine or something.
” A phone-sex goddess she was not. He was laughing, though, so that was something.
“Of course,” he said, “I could learn to put it in for you. Foreplay, eh.”
“That’s actually hot,” she said. “Who knew? Or are we just deprived? At least I’m deprived.”
“No worries. I’m deprived, too. I told you I would be, and here I am, seriously deprived.”
She sighed. “I can hardly believe I’ll see you in two days.
I hope you want me to collect you at the airport, because it seems I can’t be stopped.
I arranged with Granddad to stay with my kids for that so I can take yours along, as they’re dead keen to see you too.
You may want to spend that first night just with them, though, and that’s fine.
It’s been odd to sleep in your bed without you when I’ve never slept in it with you, but we’re going to Fiji the next day, and I can wait. Somehow.”
“Bugger that,” he answered instantly. “You’ve been in that bed by yourself? Well, so have I, and I’ve missed you. And before you say it—no, not just for the sex. Rack off. When you lot grow up, you’ll want a woman to love too.”
“I’m assuming,” she said, “that that wasn’t meant for me. Are you in a bar? And right next to the others? Seriously?”
“Not because I started out there. Because they decided to come join me at the corner table, for some reason. Must be my animal magnetism.”
“Bloody hell. They all heard that? Zane. I’m trying to go back over what you said and what I said. How embarrassing. I know I said too much, but I can’t remember what—”
“What you said is what I needed to hear. That you miss me, and for some reason, unreliable as I am in the ‘daily presence’ department, you still want me. What I’m saying is that in two days, I hope you’ll be running across the arrivals lobby in the most spectacular way possible and throwing yourself into my arms. Or—wait.
That could be me. Although I plan to take you in my arms, because I’m the man. ”
So that was nice.
Now, though, Zane was presumably sleeping off his night, and she was, yes, cooking yet another dinner.
Just with Scarlett this time, because there was only so much Cooking School a very tired Year One teacher could manage at the end of term, and Scarlett was the most interested anyway, which had been a surprise.
The rest of the kids were watching a movie—she was pleading fatigue on the “too much TV time” front, too—and Scarlett was slicing carrots and courgettes.
“Like this?” the girl asked.
“Yes,” Skylar said, “but now slice them again lengthwise. They’re meant to be julienned, and that means like matchsticks. I’m pleased you wanted to learn to make this.”
“It was the second thing you made for us,” Scarlett said, “and I thought I might be able to—”
“Yes?” Skylar asked, sliding the udon noodles into the pot of boiling water.
“Oh—eight to ten minutes for these, and then you drain them and rinse them well, because there’s heaps of starch on them and otherwise they get sticky.
I’m doing the sauce now. That’s just soy sauce, rice vinegar, cornflour with water, and a bit of honey, but it makes all the difference.
But tell me what it is you thought you might be able to do.
If it’s cooking, I’d say you’re a natural.
You have confidence, and confidence is good.
Julia Child said, ‘Never apologize and never explain.’ What you serve is what you meant to serve, and nobody needs to hear that the cake was meant to be moister or the Chilli Crisp Beef Noodles less spicy.
You drop a bit of whipped cream or ice cream onto the cake slices or squeeze some extra lime into your noodles to cut the heat, and tell yourself that if anybody thinks they can do better, they’re welcome to cook next time. ”
“So did you do that before?” Scarlett said. “Worry?”
Skylar laughed. “Oh, darling. I did that so much. I do that so much. Not with teaching, because I’m pretty confident in my teaching these days, but in other things? Yes. Remember my terrible date outfit?”
Scarlett said, “You always seemed like you knew exactly what to do, though, when you were my teacher.”
“Because you were five,” Skylar said, “and I was possibly faking it a bit. I wasn’t as confident then, because I hadn’t had as many years to learn.
Confidence is just having had so many things go wrong that you know how to fix them.
How your dad is on the rugby field, for example.
So many things happen out there, and they happen so fast. It seems to me that if he worried about making a mistake, or even thought about the mistake he’d just made, he’d never be able to play. ”
“Yes!” Scarlett said. “He says he thinks about it later, after the match, and especially the next day. The coaches tell him what he did wrong, and he knows what he did wrong anyway, and then he works harder at that thing so he won’t do it next time.
He says the only way you’ll ever be great is to front up and own your mistakes and learn.
Also that you have to lose sometimes so you know how to win next time.
He says it isn’t easy, but if it was easy, everybody would do it. And I—” She stopped again.
“He’s a wise man,” Skylar said, “even though not everybody knows it, because he doesn’t say much. But I want to hear what you think. About cooking, or about this, or both. I talked and didn’t let you do it, so here’s your chance. I’m listening.”
Scarlett didn’t answer for a minute. Concentrating on chopping, and probably gathering her thoughts.
Or her courage. Skylar waited and pushed her noodles about in the pot so they wouldn’t stick, and eventually, Scarlett said, “I’d like to do some more cooking at home.
Some more things at home. Not to be just a kid.
The others say I’m bossy, but I—” She stopped.
“You want responsibility,” Skylar said. “Same as your dad.”
“Yes. And at school, too, and later. I’m good at rugby, so maybe I’d be good enough to do that, but I’m not sure if I want to. Women’s rugby still doesn’t pay that well. Besides, I like to play, but maybe I want to do something else instead. Maybe be—” She stopped again.
“I’m here listening,” Skylar said. “And I won’t tell anyone what you say unless you tell me it’s OK.”
“Not even Dad?”
“Not even your dad.”
“OK,” Scarlett said. “Then I think I want to read law at university. Maybe. We had somebody come and talk about it during Careers Week, and it seems like something I’d like to do.
The lady said that it’s about learning the law first, and having logic, then using those things to make an argument that people will believe. I think I’d be good at that.”
“I think you’d be brilliant at that,” Skylar said.
“But I don’t see why that should be so hard for you to say, or to believe.
You must know how much your dad believes in you.
You’re very bright, and you’re a leader.
You’re not afraid to stand up and say what you think. Those are powerful qualities.”
“Really?” More vulnerable than Scarlett had ever sounded.
“Really,” Skylar promised.
“Because,” Scarlett said, “what I’d really like to do is be a judge. Or maybe sit in Parliament. Someday. Once I know enough. I want to decide things. I want to make things better, if they’re wrong. I want to fix it.”
Skylar said, “Hang on. Draining noodles.” Once she had, she turned back to Scarlett and said, “Can you come here a second?”
“Uh … OK.” The girl did, and Skylar put her arms around her and held her. Scarlett stiffened at first, and then relaxed and, so tentatively, cuddled back. Just for a moment.
“OK,” Skylar said, pulling back and smiling at her.
“Embarrassing moment over, and back to cooking very soon. I just felt so proud of you, telling me your dream, having a dream. Especially a dream like that, wanting to fix the things that are wrong. You’re an extraordinary person, Scarlett.
Not just an extraordinary girl. An extraordinary person.
And someday …” She was choking up again, the too-ready tears making their appearance bang on cue.
Stupid hormones. “Someday,” she managed to go on, “I’m going to watch you take that oath, or put on your robes for the first time, or whatever wonderful thing you do.
And I’m going to say, ‘I taught that girl. I knew her when she was five years old, and I always knew she was special. I always knew that she’d go far. ’”