Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mick
T he sweet smell of freesias saturates the air while sparrows flit from bush to bush. A splash of yellow from three small wattle trees adds to the overall warmth of the ramshackle weatherboard home. Although, it’s marred by the shattered remains of a bottle on the path and the neglected lawns of the neighbouring properties.
Before I can knock, the door swings open and a six-foot-two lanky shadow with shaggy brown hair collides with me. “Who the fuck are you?”
I stumble backwards. The boy steals my breath away. He’s a mirror image of his dad, except where Davo was the most chilled-out person I’ve ever known, Ashley is a seething ball of teenage hormones. And, more worryingly, he has the telltale haze of drugs in his eyes. A faint whiff of smoke confirms the origin—marijuana.
“I’m Mick and I’m here to see your mum.” And him. But I don’t want to spook him more than he already is. It’s a pupil-free day at his school and visiting works in well with my schedule.
He rakes his gaze over me and curls his lips into a snarl. “I’m outta here. ”
“Ashley.” Melissa appears in the doorway, her eyes puffy. “Please stay.”
He turns and sneers. “Why? So I can hear you guys fucking?”
Melissa gasps, all colour draining from her face.
I seize Ashley’s arms and shake him. “Don’t you ever speak to your mother like that. Apologise.” I immediately release my hold and step back.
Ashley’s fingers clench into fists. “Who do you think you are telling me what to do?”
For a moment, I fear he’s going to take a swing at me, and I only have myself to blame. I had no right to touch him.
“Please.” Melissa’s soft voice breaks the stand-off.
Ashley shoves his hands into the pockets of his oversized jeans and kicks the path, sending a stone skating across the grass. “Fine.”
My heart cracks. He’s a lost kid growing into a man’s body. Glancing at my wedding ring, he snorts, the attitude ramping back up. “I’ll be at the skate park.”
He strides down the driveway without a backwards glance.
Melissa wrings her hands out. “Sorry about that, Mick.”
“This is not your fault. The boy’s fifteen and confused.”
She watches her son round the corner. “But I shouldn’t be involving you. It’s not fair.”
What’s not fair is Davo dying and leaving Melissa to raise Ashley on her own. “Life’s not fair.”
“I was hoping you could talk with him, but as you saw, now isn’t a good time.” She gestures inside. “You might as well have a cuppa.”
I hesitate. It’s one thing to come here and talk with Ashley, but to be alone with Melissa … I run my fingers through my hair. No matter how innocent my visit is, my balls would be as mangled as the broken glass outside if Jules knew where I was .
Melissa stops and glances over her shoulder when she realises I’m not following. “Please, Mick.” Her eyes are bottomless pits of despair. How can I say no?
Davo and Melissa bought the house soon after they married. Happy family snaps cover the hallway walls—a monument to life before death. The space opens into the combined lounge/dining room and more visual memories of a life lost.
A large photograph of Davo and me on the day we graduated from the academy dominates the wall behind the kitchen table. We looked so similar in our uniforms—brown hair, brown eyes, cheeky smiles. We were full of hopes and dreams. Fearless. And na?ve.
“You kept this photo up?” Given how angry Melissa was with the police force, it’s surprising to see her keep an image of Davo in uniform on display.
Melissa pours water into the kettle and sets it to boil. “I’m sorry I took my grief out on you, Mick. Dave adored that picture. There’s no way I could take it down.” She laughs. It sounds out of place amongst the memories and sadness that permeate the walls. “I sometimes think he loved it more than our wedding photo.”
It’s my turn to chuckle. “I doubt that. I’ve never seen a man prouder than he was the day he married you.” And I never truly understood how complete Davo felt until my wedding day.
Melissa spoons instant coffee into two mugs. “How’s everything at home?”
“Good. Jules and I are sorting things out.” At least trying to. Our lovemaking on the weekend was a sign of how far we’ve come. But there’s still a long way to go.
I slide onto a chair at the kitchen table. The solid oak is much heavier than it appears, as Davo and I discovered when we waived the delivery option and picked the massive furniture up ourselves. I scrub my face. How does Melissa live every day with the past on display?
She folds her arms and leans against the bench. “I felt awful lying to your wife last month.”
“It wasn’t exactly a lie.”
She raises her eyebrows. “My husband was your old colleague, not me. And I totally understand why she was jealous. I would be too if I was in her shoes.”
She’s right, but telling Jules about Melissa would mean coming clean about Davo. I just can’t go there. Ever. Seeing all the reminders—photos, the furniture, his life force reflected in his son’s face—has my stomach tied in so many knots it’s a miracle I’m still upright.
I chew the inside of my cheek until I draw blood, the pain helping to keep the past where it belongs. “Ashley’s doing drugs.”
“What?” Her hand flies to her chest, and she sags against the kitchen bench.
“I don’t mean to be so blunt, Melissa, but I don’t need to sit and talk with him. I’ve seen enough affected kids to recognise the signs. The eyes reveal it every time.”
Her bottom lip quivers. “I was hoping it was just fatigue.”
“It’s not. I’m sorry I’ve taken so long to visit.” Sorry that even now, I’m one breath away from running out the front door and never coming back. My tattoo throbs, reminding me of how I’ve failed Davo. I should have kept in touch despite Melissa wanting no part of me. That’s what I promised to do. Instead, I allowed her to push me out of her life, knowing she had no other family to support her. Now that she’s reached out, I need to make amends. “I’m certain he’s on something.”
Melissa hugs her arms around her waist. “Dave would be horrified. He rarely drank and never smoked, let alone took anything illegal.” She hangs her head.
My heart breaks all over again that Davo isn’t here to help raise his child. She’s right; he’d be gutted to see his son taking drugs. Just like me, he was dedicated to ridding the streets of the filth. And it cost him his life. The last thing he’d want is for it to rob Ashley of a future as well.
Tears trickle down Melissa’s cheeks. “I don’t know what to do.”
“We’ll find a way to get through to him.”
“How?”
I’ve been giving this a lot of thought since Melissa said Ashley’s behaviour was deteriorating. “Does he like cricket or rugby? Or maybe drama? If he had an interest that forced him to be part of a team, then he’d have no time, and eventually no desire, to be with his current buddies.” It sounds easy. It’s not. But we have to start somewhere.
“The only sport he likes is skating at the park with his friends, if you can call it a sport. But he’s always enjoyed participating in school plays. I’m not sure he’ll listen, Mick, but I’ll try anything. He’s my world. I can’t lose him.”
The Police Youth Club is also an option. They have excellent programs to help troubled teenagers. But I suspect any activity related to cops will be met with strong resistance by Ashley and Melissa. The fact she reached out to me at all tells me how desperate she is.
She hands me a cup of coffee and slumps onto a chair. “What if he can’t be helped?”
I clasp her hand. “I’m sure it won’t come to that.”
Melissa wipes tears from her cheek with one hand while the other one curls tightly around mine. If she was a stronger woman, I’d be in danger of having my fingers broken. “He needs a father figure.”
And there it is. More guilt adding to the pile buried so deeply in my subconscious it would take an oil rig drill to find it. And yet, I’m still surprised when the pain etches its way to the surface.
Have I been selfish?
Yes .
But the longer I help Melissa, the greater the threat of my buried demons consuming me. Not to mention I’m betraying Jules by not being truthful.
I tug my hand from Melissa’s and push out of my seat. My chest burns as memories seep through the iron casing I’ve kept them locked in. The tactical response unit busting down the door of the crack house I was positioned in. Davo in the firing line. Blood. A river of blood. Raging through my head. Across the floor.
I rub the tattoo of a phoenix rising from the ashes that covers the god-awful gang symbol. If only it was as simple to start over in real life.
“Mick?” A distant voice infiltrates. “Mick, are you okay?”
I blink away the memories, the nightmare. Melissa hovers in front of me, her eyes wide with worry. Jesus. If she knew it was my fault her husband died, she’d view me very differently.
“Sorry. My mind went elsewhere.” I shake my head and wipe clammy hands on the back of my trousers.
Melissa’s arms circle around my waist. I don’t have the heart to push her away, even though I should. I’ll do my best to help her with Ashley. I owe that much to Davo.