Chapter 11 #2
There are photos, too, of Chris and Kim.
The same camping trip, snuggled together with Bella in their too-thin sleeping bags.
Behind the wheel of his car—the Audi he was driving when he was killed.
At a dinner with friends. Mainly her friends, Kim says.
It was as if Chris had come without a history, no friends, no family.
In hindsight, she says, her mouth curling, she knows why.
And Danika shows some of their holiday to New Zealand.
There’s Cami—a round blob in a snowsuit navigating the bunny slope.
The three of them eating burgers at a café.
And one of Chris pecking Danika on the cheek while she looked deliberately horrified for the camera.
The top of Danika’s head is cut off, and the picture is skewed, but Cami was so proud she managed to take it.
The level in the bottle of wine descends, then empties, and they both switch to water. They’ve spent four hours together.
With a start, Danika wonders at how quickly, how smoothly, the time has passed. But they still need to talk about what they tell their daughters. How they tell them.
“When will you tell Bella?” she asks.
Kim pushes her thick plait over her shoulder.
“It’s more the how I have to figure out.
Like how Chris deceived us—and you. Like how he didn’t just vanish—he died.
Bella’s grief will intensify again. And I have to tell her she has a sister.
I hope that will be a positive thing. How will you tell Cami? ”
“I’ll start with the positive,” Danika says. “I’ll say that it’s great she really likes Bella. That they even look alike. And that I have something to tell her about that. I hope the excitement that she has a sister will override the fact that her father had a double life.”
“I also have to tell Bella that I’ve known all this for some time.” Kim bites her lip. “That I’ve kept from her the knowledge that her father is dead. About you and Cami.”
“Do you have to tell her now?” Danika asks. “All at once?”
“No. But equally, I’ll have to tell her soon. Or she’ll find out. She’s only eight, and she’s lost so much already. I don’t want her to lose her trust in me as well.”
Danika rises to refill their water glasses from the bottle in the fridge. “And us.” She directs her words into the fridge, so she won’t have to see Kim’s face as she answers. “How do you see us going forward?”
The silence seems long and maybe terrible.
“I don’t know,” Kim says at last. “I was thinking friends. Now, I don’t know. Maybe more.”
Danika turns, faces her. “More, how?” Her stomach winds itself tight, pushing acid into her throat.
“More like an extended family. Chris told me he didn’t have parents. Is that true?”
“It is. At least, that’s what I’ve always been told.
He immigrated—that is, he told me he immigrated from Britain when he was twenty.
That his parents aren’t living. No brothers or sisters.
” Her mouth twists. “A month ago, I would have just said ‘he immigrated’. Now, I’m second-guessing everything he ever told me. The facts.”
“And you?”
“My parents are local. You’ve already met Shirley. I have an older brother, Ronan. He lives in Perth. We catch up at Christmas. He’s married and has two kids, both boys, but they’re a lot older than Cami.”
“My parents live in Far North Queensland,” Kim says. “I don’t have siblings.” She twists the silver ring on her thumb. “My parents never liked Chris much. Dad said straight out he didn’t trust him. I haven’t told them about you, about Cami, yet.”
“Will you?”
“Eventually. But I don’t have the family that you have. I see my family, my close family, as me and Bella. But I’m hoping, a small hope, that maybe Cami—and you—will be like family, too.”
Does she want that? Danika sucks her lip. “I can’t say. I don’t know what will happen. I’m taking this one step at a time. First, we tell the girls. Then…” She falls silent. Already, she’s talking as if they are in this together. First, we tell the girls. Plural. Cami and Bella. Bella and Cami.
We.
First. We.
She swallows. That word choice implies a commitment.
Is she ready for that? It’s almost like a marriage, except this is more nebulous, harder to sever ties.
Kim picks up Danika’s hand and grips it. “I can see you worrying. We can’t stop this now. We just have to see where the journey takes us.”
Danika heaves a shuddering sigh. “Often, I wish I’d never opened the door to you that time.
Maybe you’d have gone away and not come back.
Then I’d never have known all of this.” She meets Kim’s eyes.
“But sometimes, too, I’m glad you did, even though it’s uncomfortable, even though I’m grieving again, not for the man that died, but for the marriage I thought I had.
But I’m glad I know the truth now.” She grips Kim’s fingers tightly, feeling her dry hands. Comforting. Steady.
Until now, Danika has always been the steady one.
“I’m glad you feel like that.” Kim takes a breath. “Now, let’s see if we can pick a time to tell our girls.”
“Separately,” Danika says.
Kim nods. “Yes, separately. But if we time it together, they will have the option of supporting each other, too.”
“Next Saturday?” Danika asks. “So they don’t have to go to school the next day.”
Kim nods, agrees.
Danika closes her eyes and imagines Cami’s face. Her reaction.
She has no idea what that will be.