Being Kalli(62)

“I just don’t know how I can thank or repay you for all you’ve done.”

“Um, Kalli?” Her voice is hesitant. “Maybe we’ll be even after this.”

“Not a chance. What happened?”

She plays with her cropped hair, scratching mindlessly while her mind seems a million miles away. “I swear to you. I swear the boys were asleep and all. But I just missed her. Fuck, and I know it sounds bad, but I was getting lonely. I hadn’t seen Steph in ages and I can’t bring her home …”

Scout stays silent, so I say, “You invited her here.”

“Yes! Ack, don’t hate me. It was the middle of the night, and the boys will never know.”

“I’m glad you are human after all. Now I do feel less shitty about you being so great to me.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Scout, ‘course you were lonely. As long as I don’t get surprised when I look in my bed, I’m thrilled. You shouldn’t hide your relationship with Steph.”

“Well, maybe one day soon.”

Scout determines I’m fine and sane, and she leaves me to unwind and get back to things here. The moment she leaves, I drop the boys off for their half-day at preschool. When I am home, I start Googling and dialling. After, I open up my savings account, and Mum’s. Thanks to my teaching, I earn much more than my friends. Between Mum and I, we have enough to get her started in a treatment facility. I’ll need a huge amount to keep us going, and that won’t explain how I can pay the bills, but I’ve realised my priorities.

One, university doesn’t matter if it’s going to take me somewhere I’d hate to be.

Two, my violin does matter. It would be amazing if I could earn enough money to help Mum doing something I love.

Maybe I can scrape together enough now I’m getting my life on track.



• • •



Nate visits us when Mum’s back.

He comes over with a plastic sheet thingy, filled with truck and car moulds. He brings out an easy recipe to make melted chocolate, which both he and Mum help to scoop in the moulds. After we let them set in the fridge and all three of us wash up and put the utensils back away, the boys watch TV in the living room further down.

At one point Mum seems to slide off, seemingly not hearing me talk, and instead wiping down the edges of the grooves in the mould. Later, though, she looks directly into my eyes with a full smile that tells me she’s back. The attempted suicide and initial treatment have planted her feet on the ground, but there are some odd moments and I worry for her still.

After, Mum kisses Nate on the cheek, says thanks, and takes the boys to play at the end of the house.

Nate stands behind the bench, fingertips perched on the surface, assessing me. I take him in, wondering how the hell to say thank you for including Mum and giving her free love, equal to the power her therapy with her psychologist has to change her way of thinking. He didn’t once make her feel she looked like she needed help.

Stepping to the edge, I rest my hands on it, crossed over at my elbows. Biting my lip, I risk looking at Nate.

His lips are parted, and the eye contact is firm, unmistakable. He swallows, and it’s a deep, sexy swallow that I can’t help but fawn over. He leans over, and just as I think he’ll kiss me, he whispers, low and deep, “Where are they?”

Taken out of the moment, I blink back surprise. “Who?”

“Your mum, and the twins.”

I can’t help but stare at his lips, still parted, and at his throat, swallowing again. “They aren’t coming back.”

Nate grins and grabs me under my arms, pulls me over the kitchen bench without straining much, just his neck blood vessels bulging under his skin, as he pulls me over.

I pull my knees forward and spread them out, meeting Nate around his hips. I hook my feet around under his ass.

With his hands on my shoulders, he kisses my collarbones and then settles his hands down my length at my waist. In his grasp my chest heaves, and I stare at him panting and breathless. What the hell am I going to be like when we actually do stuff again?

When he speaks, I have to pull myself back here. I get carried away with Nate’s scent. It’s light and woody, but mostly something unique that makes him, him. He looks from my chest to my lips and up to my eyes, and says, “Let’s go out. Now. I want to take you somewhere.”

As soon as he slides me off the bench leaving me to change while he waits in his car, I run around my room like a headless chicken. I dart to my wardrobe and start picking clothes to no avail. I need hours to put something amazing together, and then some space to decide if it’s a stupid choice, but I don’t have that. My hair will have to stay. I blow-dried it straight yesterday anyway.