Chapter 16
FRASER
‘Morning, Frase,’ Rachael says, flicking blonde hair out of her face, arms laden with an impressive double-decker masterpiece that she’s fashioned with fondant crotchets and quavers and keyboards and guitars for Parker’s tenth birthday.
The cake is her birthday gift, by prior arrangement with Maggie, who was only too delighted not to have to outsource this to a local patisserie as usual.
I sweep the balloons aside and help Rachael set it carefully on the dining table just as my parents arrive, Mum glaring at the cake or, more accurately, at Audrey’s best friend’s involvement in the whole thing, as Parker comes racing down the stairs on a video call with Josh in Europe.
‘Grandma and Pop should have my gift,’ he tells her. ‘Sorry I couldn’t be there, Parks.’ He’d originally promised to tee up a work visit that would coincide with her birthday. But ‘something came up’. Perhaps an acute dose of guilt, now that Audrey’s back in the picture.
When she hears his voice on the phone, there’s a flicker of surprise on her face.
I can’t pretend I don’t notice the frowns that she and Rachael exchange.
When Parker opens her uncle’s present, a professional conductor’s baton from the gift shop at Juilliard, Audrey scurries into the kitchen, immediately followed by Rachael—not before she taps me on the arm and says, ‘Don’t worry. It’s not what you think.’
What does she think I’m thinking? Is she worried I can’t handle anything else? According to my bank account, our family is single-handedly propping up the psychology industry of Canberra.
It’s taken hard work over several weeks, but between the cognitive behavioural therapy, the drugs and some practical strategies, I seem to have wrenched myself out of immediate danger.
Maggie and I have been taking Parker to a play-based psychologist in the city who confirmed Maggie’s suspicion of neurodiversity and referred us to a paediatric psychiatrist for a battery of tests, several diagnoses, and the addition of a stimulant that seems to be vastly improving the way Parker navigates everyday life.
I’m about to follow Audrey and Rachael into the kitchen when the last of the guests pile in.
Audrey’s sister, Sara, the more introverted of the two, with darker hair and a permanently anxious expression hidden behind tortoiseshell frames.
Behind her, Maggie, along with ten-year-old Rose—Parker’s new and only friend—and Rose’s father, Kurt.
Maggie gave them a lift. They’ve been having frequent playdates and even have a day trip planned to Batemans Bay.
‘Fraser,’ Kurt says, striding across the room to shake my hand. ‘You don’t mind if I stay?’
Rose has been here several times. But from the bright look on my former wife’s face, I suspect Kurt’s presence at this party might be for other reasons.
At that thought, my heart skips a beat. Just the one.
On behalf of my younger self and the expectations that life derailed, despite all the greenery flourishing in our charred landscape.
‘Maggie!’ Mum says, arms outstretched. Will she ever get over my divorce? I’m almost grateful Audrey is holed up in the kitchen having some sort of Josh-related debrief with Rachael and isn’t privy to this return-of-the-prodigal-daughter-in-law performance.
‘Parker, take off your jumper! You’re too hot!’ I say as she rushes past with Rose. I press the button on the aircon, cooling the house since she completely ignores me, as if teen rebellion has set in three years early.
And now the smoke alarm is going off! That’ll be Audrey, who is many incredible things, but not a competent chef. She’ll have set something on fire again …