Chapter 44
SINGLE PEOPLE
The morning before Peggy’s wedding, Ronnie woke damp with dew, serenaded by cockatoos, riflebirds, bowerbirds, chowchilla, and scrubwren.
Before she opened her eyes, she knew where she was from the sound of running water shushing in rills over rocks, and from the smell.
Moldy wet leaf detritus, rotting logs, tree perspiration, fresh wood shavings.
If her mother was here, she would be able to identify each tree species Ronnie had milled into boards from the scent.
She opened her eyes and sat up in her tent. Outside, a clearing lay shaded and hidden between silent ferns and mossy stones.
Behind the horse barn at Upsend Downs, the blue quandong sapling had grown since they planted it six months ago. Someone had hammered metal t-posts around it and strung chicken wire to save it from the slasher. No one but Nev would have thought of that. No one else knew it was there.
Tracey Chapman on the radio. Honeybees in the clover, grass gone to seed glowing backlit in the distance.
Golden lawn, dusty haze, blue mountains, cerulean sky.
Barney must see it when he mowed the nursery.
What did he think when he saw it—a lone sapling on an otherwise barren hillside that rolled down into a wet ditch?
The boss was not prone to whimsy or sentimentalism on the public side of the farm.
The quandong was now as tall as her chest. She pinched it gently near the top where it was no more than a leggy twig, careful not to damage it, unlike the other thing, the thing that came before.
She was irrationally fond of it, was glad they had planted it here where no one else would see.
Someday it would be a shade tree. It would look like it had always been there.
If anyone saw Ronnie she would blush like a kid caught misbehaving. It was always a mistake to become irrationally attached to things.
Nev seemed committed to protecting the quandong if the fence was any indication.
Would she plant a new one if this one shriveled and turned brown?
Ronnie suspected the older woman would replace it without telling her, like a parent replacing a beloved goldfish or budgie.
Did that make it immortal? Would there always be an iteration of it here as long as Nev was alive?
Ronnie wanted to be that type of person—tending a perpetual flame for no reason other than that it seemed like the right thing to do.
The ectopic might have been her child but the tree was Nev’s.
With her outfit for Peggy’s wedding in the backseat of her truck, she drove to the house at Pademelon Road—humbled, bruised, but stronger. She had lost a round with Nev, but lived to fight another day.
She felt lighter.
The fact that she owned property still felt miraculous.
She remembered why she liked being single: more solitude, more time to muck about in gyms and watch sports, no one to nag her if she ate greasy takeaway on the couch with her fingers, like she was planning to do today.
The Rugby World Cup was tomorrow, October thirty-first. On the radio a sports commentator said, “If they win, this roster will be the fifth-best rugby team in history.”
Reg’s front door was unlocked. She let herself in.
Reg’s dogs jumped on her, sniffing her and licking her hands.
“Good morning.” She used an empty yogurt container to pour scoops of dog food into metal bowls on the kitchen floor.
While the dogs ate, tails flapping, she opened the fridge and poured mango juice from a plastic bottle directly into her mouth. Cold juice woke up her tongue.
Reg and Blaise had flown to London to watch the game. Mattie’s son, Luca, would be there in the stands with his mother, the coffee barista social media influencer from Barcelona who lived in Madrid near the Prado. The All Blacks were defending their title against the Wallabies.
Her brother had not offered her a ticket.
She hoped he won and got the hundred-thousand-dollar bonus so that he could buy a house.
Mattie spent money as fast as it came in, but he needed to plan for retirement.
At twenty-eight, his prime wouldn’t last forever.
The gravy train would dry up unless he made a sound business plan and courted sponsors, brand endorsements.
He could advertise deodorant, she mused, punch the television camera.
Her phone vibrated. A photo of Nev smiling in her car. Her smile was unusually lopsided.
(Nev) YOU’RE SINGING TOMORROW. CAN’T WHISTLE WORTH SHITE.
Nev had been to the dentist that morning.
(Ronnie) Dentures?
Her phone vibrated again before she could return it to her pocket.
(Nev) Root canal.
Ronnie frowned.
(Ronnie) I don’t know what that is, but if I become lead singer I’m renaming the band ‘World Peace.’
(Nev) What band? Without me you’re a duo.
(Ronnie) I’m sending you to a home.
(Nev) Everything goes to Kaz. You’re not in the will.
At five o’clock, Ronnie dressed to go dancing at the pub.
Barney’s band was playing tonight—Fleetwood Mac hits again.
She was loving her Johnny Cash era, leaning in.
Black pearl snap shirt from the men’s section that fit like a glove tucked snug in Nev’s father’s jeans.
Silver belt buckle with her initials. Black hat, boots.
The car park was full. Inside the Lionheart pub, locals with mullets, sunburns, and crooked teeth packed the room. She had to take off her hat to fit through the door.
Heads turned. The warm buzz of noise in front of the bar grew quiet, then loud again as people returned to their conversations.
Maude and Rainbow sat at a table with Maude’s parents.
Ronnie couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Maude’s father.
They waved her over, toward an empty fifth chair, which they must have put there for her.
The invitation from the Greens had come as a surprise.
They had never asked her to join them for dinner before, let alone out in public. That was something family did.
Maude looked clean and well put together. Ronnie knew her ex had spent an hour putting on makeup to look like she wasn’t wearing any. Now that she and Maude shared custody, Ronnie discovered she was no longer terrified of her.
The Greens stood and took turns hugging her, which wasn’t as awkward as she expected. Rainbow was nose-deep in a book about pirates. Ronnie leaned down to kiss her on the head. “Hiya, baby. Good book?”
Maude’s parents talked about the big match tomorrow. They were going to a barbie at Maude’s aunt’s condo in Cairns, which sounded like a terrible idea because of traffic, but they were bringing the pavlova and were certain the traffic would be fine.
When they moved to the dance floor Ronnie followed.
Maude’s parents danced together in front of Barney’s band.
Maude turned toward her, asking with a half-smile before raising her arms to reach for Ronnie’s shoulders. Maude’s palms were cool on the back of Ronnie’s neck. “Are you disappointed you’re not going to London?”
She shook her head. Everything she needed was here.
She wasn’t attracted to Maude.
They danced to Cyndi Lauper’s 1983 hit, ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,’ which made her sleepy. Maude turned away.
Ronnie hugged the shorter woman from behind, swaying in time to the music. Things would never be comfortable between them, but neutral was good enough. This was a kind of a tenderness. Rainbow tied them together. They were family in a way.
Maybe if she didn’t date anyone for a while, if she spent time with herself, worked on herself instead, she could sort out how to be the best version of herself.
Rainbow deserved that.
She and Maude danced face to face again. She spun Maude around, out of step with the music. The dance floor at the pub was hot and crowded. She loved her eccentric, close-knit town.
“You clean up nice,” Maude said.
“So do you.”
“The farm looks good on you. You’ve grown up.”
“Oh?”
“You look ten years older. It’s wild. You’re giving dorky dad energy now.”
Ronnie was a little softer around the middle than she had been last year, and better dressed. Not trying to impress anyone.
She taught Rainbow dance moves, the lasso and the fishing rod.
She understood why Nev made the commitment every day to be with herself, content with herself, a unit of one. She respected that. It surprised her. Now that she had seen it, it seemed so clear.
It was a privilege to be single. A gift. Selfish, in a way. People pitied single folks, but they had the best deal. They had figured out something and they weren’t letting the secret out. They were the lucky ones, the people who loved themselves.