TWO
Stephanie
Grabbing her bag, she gets out of the car and looks around the spacious double garage where neat shelves line the walls, most of them empty since Christopher moved out.
But keeping the house means Stephanie has no savings for an emergency or her far off retirement. And she certainly has no funds for a holiday, something she promised herself she would take with the kids once the divorce was finalised.
‘Hello, chickens,’ says Stephanie and both look up and smile and then return to their scrolling.
‘How was the maths test, Luke?’ she asks her son who is a combination of her and Christopher with curly dark-blond hair from his father and almond-shaped brown eyes from her. He’s also inherited his father’s beautiful smile which is probably what led to his being conceived.
He looks up from his phone and cocks his head to the side, considering his answer. ‘Not the best,’ he says, ‘but not the worst.’ He shrugs and returns to his screen.
‘And you, sweetheart?’ asks Stephanie as she fills the kettle for another cup of coffee, decaf this time because it’s late afternoon.
Avery has fine brown hair, like Stephanie, and brown eyes as well.
She has also inherited Stephanie’s full lips and her slight frame, and she’s good at every sport she tries, just like Stephanie was at school.
‘Quinn is having a sleepover on Saturday and she asked me to come and I know that it’s my night to sleep at Daddy’s house but I really want to go.
Can you talk to him for me?’ Avery offers her mother her most engaging smile and Stephanie nods.
One thing she and Christopher did agree on was that they would not let the fact that they are divorced interfere with their children’s social lives.
The fact that they spend every second weekend having a sleepover at their father’s house still feels artificial to both kids. Christopher tries. He takes them out, buys them things – but a connection has been lost. Perhaps things will get better, in time.
Christopher didn’t have to make much effort to maintain this connection when they were an intact family, because he saw the kids every night at dinner.
But every time she feels a tiny pang of sympathy for the distance between father and children, she remembers that he was the one who made the choice to cheat. He’s gotten what he deserved.
Luke puts his phone down on the counter and wipes fingers covered in Cheetos dust on his grey school pants. ‘Mr Louie is putting together a camping trip to the mountains. We’ll be staying in tents but we would have to pay for food and stuff and…’
Stephanie feels her heart sink. But she nods her head, encouraging him to go on. Luke’s head teacher believes that kids need to be out in nature as much as possible and a camping trip seems like an ideal thing to do with sixteen-year-olds.
‘Alex and Jackson are definitely going and there’s going to be white water rafting and rock climbing and so much cool stuff…’
He stops speaking and then he shakes his head.
‘I mean I know I probably can’t go anyway because it’s still pretty expensive…’ He shrugs and his face falls.
‘Well… I don’t know. I can talk to Dad or… just let me know how much it is,’ says Stephanie, hating that her son has to miss out on something that he wouldn’t have even had to think about a year ago. Maybe Christopher will give him the money, but probably not.
‘I can get you all the details,’ says Luke, his face lighting up. ‘And maybe I could use some money from my savings account.’
‘No, no, you can’t. Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out.
You can go.’ An impulsive stupid thing to say because it means she will have to beg Christopher for the money or put groceries on the credit card and just hope she can pay it off.
Already, as it is, she lives in fear of a large appliance breaking down or the house needing repairs.
‘Really?’ asks Luke and then he comes over to her, leaning down and squeezing her in a hug, surrounding her with the fake cheesy smell of his favourite snack food. ‘Thanks, Mum. I’ll go tell them, they’ll be hyped.’
Stephanie’s momentary joy at giving her son what he wants is instantly eclipsed by the calculations she starts running in her head. Maybe Christopher will pay for it but she doesn’t want to risk letting Luke ask and having him say no.
Luke already regards his father with deep scepticism.
They have not told the children that he cheated but Luke figured it out.
‘You don’t fight that much and when you were together you seemed kind of happy so I guess that means someone cheated and I know it wasn’t you,’ he said bluntly, a few months after she and Christopher separated.
Stephanie hadn’t known what to reply and she hadn’t wanted to lie so she just winced as an answer. But Luke still needs a father so Stephanie makes sure to encourage him to see Christopher.
If he says ‘no’ to giving Luke money, it will further fracture an already tense relationship. She’ll find the money somehow.
‘Want to make the salad for dinner?’ Stephanie asks Avery, who is now closing up all the packets of chips and chocolates to be put away.
‘I have, like, a ton of homework,’ her daughter says. ‘They want us to write an essay on the Shakespeare play we’re reading and Mrs Grant explained how to write an essay but it’s really tricky to get it right.’
Avery is in the first year of high school and Stephanie knows that the teachers push their junior kids quite hard so that they are able to achieve the best results when they get older.
‘I’m sure you’ll figure it out but if you need help, I’m here,’ says Stephanie.
‘I know,’ Avery says, but she looks concerned.
‘I’m sure you’ll do a good job.’ Even though she will soon be a qualified high school history teacher she has always held herself back from helping the kids unless they asked for it. Luke has done just fine, but Stephanie worries that things are not that easy for Avery.
‘Yeah, yeah.’
Avery hops off the black leather stool she’s sitting on and throws all the packets into the large pantry, grabbing her school bag on the way out of the kitchen and leaving Stephanie alone with her calculations.
How much could a camping trip be? A few hundred dollars or if it involves all those activities, could it even stretch to a few thousand?
She grabs some tomatoes from the fridge and her chopping board but is stopped when the bell rings.
Opening the front door she is surprised to see Gail.
‘Hey, you,’ she says, feeling her heart lift at the sight of her best friend. ‘This is a nice surprise.’
‘Hey, you,’ Gail replies, leaning forward and planting a kiss on Stephanie’s cheek, enveloping her in Gail’s favourite floral perfume. ‘Did he send the money?’
‘He did but I had to threaten him with court, again,’ Stephanie says, knowing the kids upstairs can’t hear. She steps back and turns around, letting Gail follow her into the kitchen. ‘Wine?’ she asks.
Gail shakes her head, her black curls bouncing around her face. ‘Bastard.’
‘Yeah well, now Luke wants to go on some camping trip and I sort of said he could and I have no idea how much that’s going to cost.’
‘You can ask Christopher. He should pay for it, right?’ Gail sits down on one of the bar stools and then leans across the counter and grabs a piece of tomato, popping it into her mouth.
She has obviously come straight from work and is dressed in her favourite black pencil skirt and crisp white blouse.
‘Maybe? But he’s not required to and he’ll make it into a whole thing and I just… I keep thinking I might need to get a full-time job, something that gives me more money.’
Gail shakes her head. ‘But that would mean giving up on getting your degree and you need that in the long run. You have to finish, Steph, you just have to. It’s only a few more months and then you can get a steady job with regular pay.’
‘Yeah. I know that, I know it.’ Stephanie sighs.
‘You could always sell the house.’ Gail says the words hesitantly as she looks around the kitchen.
It’s a suggestion she has made many times.
And Stephanie has explained to her many times that the house feels like the only thing she has achieved, aside from her children.
She oversaw the renovation and chose every single thing inside it.
Christopher built a practice but she made this house what it is, a home that reflects her style and taste and their family.
But, most importantly of all, it’s where her children feel safe. It’s the only home both of them have ever known.
‘I know, but would the kids thank me for doing that?’
‘Well, kids rarely thank you for anything,’ says Gail who has a two-year-old daughter who she chose to have alone, when she realised that she was not going to find her happily ever after.
It’s been years since Stephanie and Gail first met.
They were a slightly odd couple at school.
Stephanie has always been small, slight and, according to her, lacking real feminine curves.
Although she keeps her fine brown hair long, it’s mostly tied up and while her brown eyes are a rich chocolate colour, her appearance has never impressed her when she stared into a mirror.
Gail was one of the girls who developed early.
Her lush curves were complemented by riotous black curls and green eyes.
Next to her, Stephanie felt small and insignificant, ordinary.
Their first interaction was on the playground when a boy barrelled into Stephanie, leaving her sprawled on the ground, more humiliated than anything else.
Gail had walked over to her, leaving the group of girls she was talking to and held out a hand to help Stephanie get up.
‘Arseholes,’ she shouted across the playground, leading to laughter from everyone around them.
Stephanie took her hand gratefully and Gail fussed around her, making sure her school skirt was free of debris and checking her over for injury.
They have been friends since that day.