Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
B y three o’clock, I’d had enough of fixing viewpoints, arranging lights and positioning props like eucalyptus wreaths, snowflake confetti, and reindeer tealight candle holders. I had an involuntary twitch. All day I’d avoided being alone with Graeme, but as I was leaving, he walked in.
‘The fucking fluorescent lights are tinting the set with a vomitus shade of green.’
I spent the next hour sniffing back tears and lugging huge plastic diffusers into place to create an even light.
By the time I left the studio, I was exhausted. Matthew was coming home tomorrow, and I needed to pull myself together. I rubbed my tired eyes and yawned. An uninterrupted eight-hour sleep would hopefully fix it. But first I had to pick Angus up from soccer practice and make it through dinner and homework tantrums. And Robyn’s antenatal class.
‘Hey, buddy, what did you get up to at school?’ I quizzed Angus as we drove home from the soccer grounds .
‘Stuff.’
‘Any advance on stuff ?’
‘Nup.’
‘Good day, then?’
He shrugged. ‘Random.’
That little catch-up went well.
At home, Mum was in the kitchen sprinkling grated cheese over a vegetarian lasagne. She popped it in the oven and grinned. ‘Ready in forty minutes. I’ve also made apple crumble.’
‘You’re too fabulous.’ I hugged her then glanced at my watch. ‘Lexi’ll be home soon, so I should?—’
‘She’s in the garden with her friend.’
Friend? Garden? Scooting outside, I discovered Lexi and Hunter kissing enthusiastically near the mutilated conifers. She was supposed to be at the library finishing an assignment on Shakespearean tragedies.
Teenage girls are sneaky. Sneaky, obnoxious and devious.
‘I hate you, Mum,’ Lexi screamed after I asked, or rather demanded, Hunter go home.
‘Thank you, darling. I’m thinking of installing video monitors in strategic locations around the house and garden.’
‘You would do something evil like that, wouldn’t you? If only to make my life more miserable than it already is.’
I wouldn’t actually. Far too expensive.
‘How could you embarrass me like that? I hate you!’
‘So you’ve told me. Twice.’
‘Everyone will laugh at me.’
‘What do you mean?’ She didn’t answer me. ‘Lexi, you’re too young to be kissing boys.’
‘You don’t understand. Hunter’s my boyfriend. The right kind of boyfriend.’
‘He’s your boyfriend now? A week ago, he was only a friend.’
‘When I’m with Hunter, the girls don’t treat me badly. ’
‘Who’s treating you badly?’
‘No one. Leave me alone.’
‘Last night you got drunk, and this afternoon I find you kissing Hunter. What next? You’re a choir girl, for God’s sake!’
‘What’s wrong with kissing? Juliet was only thirteen.’
‘Lexi! I don’t care about the other girls in your class. This is about you.’
‘Juliet, as in Romeo and Juliet .’
My daughter had dibs on being superior. Romeo and Juliet ! For goodness’ sake, that relationship was a complete and utter tragedy, all because some adolescent infatuation was elevated to the status of sacred love. I racked my brain. Surely Juliet was older. Though, from memory, she was only thirteen, albeit two weeks shy of her fourteenth birthday.
‘And look where immature, blind passion led her! Didn’t turn out too well, did it?’
‘They were in love!’
I focused on remembering the Serenity Prayer Mum used to repeat… God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.