Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Mick
H aving Riley’s behaviour identified as something to watch was the kick in the arse Jules and I needed. We owe it to our little girl to sort ourselves out before there’s any lasting impact on her. And, as if the universe has finally agreed to give us a helping hand, Dr Amy had a cancellation. So we made up a flimsy excuse about wanting to shop for a new stereo and asked my parents if they could mind Riley. They were more than happy to oblige.
Linkin Park belts out ‘Crawling’ on the Spotify playlist as we creep through a set of traffic lights only to find ourselves at another red one. It’s crazy how the roads on a Saturday are more choked than on weekdays. The rain’s not helping.
Jules turns the stereo down. “That session went well.”
“Yeah, it did.” I’m not ready to change my general belief that shrinks are as useful as a computer with no memory card. But I concede that, if nothing else, the very act of seeing one brings Jules and me closer and gives us someone to be accountable to for the promises we make. And at least Dr Amy doesn’t blind our eyeballs or destroy our eardrums.
Jules rests her hand on my forearm. “Then why are you so tense? ”
Because it’s time to talk to her about Jake’s request, and I’m still not sure if accepting it is the right thing to do. A nightmare woke me two nights ago. It’s been years since the last one. I don’t need a shrink to tell me it’s because the possibility of working with the police has been rolling around in my head. My boss has already approved the secondment. All that’s waiting is for me to say yes.
“I might have a way to work closer to home.”
She turns to fully look at me, her expression one level away from nuclear. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“No, no.” Bloody hell. I’m messing this up. “There’s a case I’ve been working on which crosses over with the cops. Jake has asked if I’d be willing to work out of Parramatta Police Station until it’s resolved.”
“Ah.” Her expression softens, and she rubs my upper arm. “But you don’t want anything to do with the police.”
“No. But it’s not like I’d be a cop. I’d still be working as an accountant.”
My hands curl tighter around the steering wheel. If I help only in a forensic capacity, I should be able to keep the past at bay. I hope. And with no direct exposure to the criminal element, the danger to Jules and Riley would be negligible.
Jules fiddles with the stereo and changes the playlist to hip-hop. She reaches for my hand. I prise it off the steering wheel and thread my fingers with hers. “Jake’s home by six most nights.”
“I could be too.”
She squeezes my hand, and the doubts whispering in my ear quieten. We can make this work.
My mother insists on eating lunch in the formal dining room. The heavy curtains are drawn against the torrential rain outside, and red lamps cast a soft glow over the long cedar table. I almost need my glasses to see the food on the plate. It’s the same meal every time—roast lamb and vegetables with all the trimmings.
Dad picks up a bottle of red. “Would you like a wine, Jules?”
“No,” I snap without thinking.
Dad’s bushy eyebrows climb his wrinkled forehead. “Why not? Just because you’re a born-again teetotaller, it doesn’t mean the rest of us should miss out.”
Jules’ face goes still like a statue. The warmth from earlier is gone, her cold amber eyes promising me a dressing down when we get home. She licks her bottom lip. “I wouldn’t say no.”
I clamp my mouth shut to stop the lecture that’s dancing on the tip of my tongue from escaping. Dad’s right. Drinking in a social situation is okay. It’s the drinking alone that worries me the most.
My father pours generous glasses for Jules and himself and a small one for Mum.
He pushes the jug of water towards me. “So, how are things at the tax office? Caught any cheats lately?”
I laugh at the way his entire face lights up. He was an orthopaedic surgeon, as was his father. My oldest brother followed in their footsteps, while my sister became a cardiologist. I expected to be met with disappointment when I told Dad I wanted to do accounting and then disbelief when I joined the police force. But he’s been nothing but supportive and a little bemused by my fascination with solving puzzles, whether they be crimes or dodgy tax returns. “You know I can’t tell you anything.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He taps his nose. “Confidential. Just like when you were a cop.”
“Leave the boy alone, Stephen,” says Mum. “And how are things with you, Julieta? What are you doing with yourself when Riley’s at school? ”
I keep the smile pasted on my face as my mother changes the topic. Unlike Dad, she doesn’t understand why I ‘threw away my degree’ to join the police force a year after graduation, so she skilfully deflects any attempts to bring up my days as a cop. Which suits me fine.
“Um …” Colour stains Jules’ cheeks and her knuckles whiten around the cutlery. “I keep busy.”
“I’m sure you do, but you must get bored. Have you thought about getting a job?” Mum glances at Riley. “Unless you two are trying for another child?”
Jules chokes on her food.
I thump her back. Geez, Mum. Bad timing. “We haven’t discussed it.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
My mother’s been dropping hints for the last couple of years. I wouldn’t mind a little sister or brother for Riley, but on the few occasions I’ve brought it up, Jules has shut me down. And given where our marriage is, now is definitely not the time for this subject.
My father breaks the awkward silence. “I should have asked earlier. How’s your mother getting on, Jules?”
Jules lowers her head. I clasp her hand under the table. It seems we’ve walked into the Williams’ inquisition today. “As well as expected when she’s in so much pain.”
“Terrible thing to be injured like that.” My mother scoops a large helping of baked carrots onto her plate. She barely touches the meat and potatoes. Determined to maintain a youthful figure, she all but starves herself. But she doesn’t expect Dad to do the same, continuing to cook wholesome meals, although he can’t seem to put weight on. “Stella up the road fell down an escalator at the shopping centre and is now in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. At least your mother can still walk.”
Jules gasps. I have no idea what’s got into my mother. She’s a little opinionated but not normally so insensitive. Jules scrapes her chair back. “Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom.” She swipes her cheek and hurries out of the room.
My father pats Mum’s arm. “Maybe Riley could help you with dessert.”
Mum glances between the two of us, then holds her hand out to Riley. “Of course. Let’s go, darling.”
With Riley out of earshot, Dad leans back in his chair. “You know we’ll help if you need money to arrange an operation with one of the top neurosurgeons.”
“We’re fine, Dad.”
“Jules doesn’t seem fine.”
“She’s upset because her mother’s in pain and won’t accept our help.” Although, we suspect the real reason is she’s scared she’ll lose her ability to walk. The procedure isn’t without risk, which is why Mum’s comments about the wheelchair would have hit Jules hard.
My mobile dings. I avoid Dad’s insightful gaze and pull the phone out of my pocket. The lamb threatens an unwanted reappearance when I see the caller ID.
Melissa: Ash is getting worse. Can you talk to him?
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just work.” I turn my mobile to silent and slide it back into my pocket.
“You’re a workaholic, Mick. Like I used to be. Don’t forget to make time for your family.”
My father might be frail, but he’s as astute as ever. “I’m here now.”
“Yes. But from what Riley said to us, you’re always at work, and even on weekends you’re closeted away in your office. Kids observe a lot more than we give them credit for.”
“I …” Riley is far more perceptive than I realised. First, the drawing from school. Then telling Jules’ mum about our fighting. And now it seems she’s filled my parents in on my long hours. The counsellor said it would take time for Jules and me to heal our relationship, but that’s half the problem. Th ere aren’t enough hours in the day to spend with my family, help Melissa with Ashley, and do my job.
I shove my hands into my pockets and back away from the table. From Dad’s too-knowing gaze. There’s one way to carve out more time. I need to call Jake. No more stalling.