Page 110 of Pieces of Us

‘So, what’s going on with Crys?’ Dad asks Uncle Mark, but it’s more like a flat out interrogation. Amity’s mum has been here for a couple of months now, with no plans to leave. When she’s visited over the years, she just stayed at Uncle Mark’s, so it made sense for her to do the same this time. The only difference is that this time, Amity doesn’t live there.

Hart’s asked me several times over the past few weeks to give her the gossip on her parents, but the truth is, I don’t have any.

Today is Christmas and she’s finally back where she belongs. With me.

I haven’t seen her since the opening of my first home, which doesn’t seem like a long time, but I swear, the clocks slowed down or stopped over the last month. I had seventy-two transcendent hours with Amity, but like always ,it was short lived with her having to travel back to the states.

She had landed a converted interview with the cast of her all-time favourite show, Grey’s Anatomy, which naturally meant that for the last twenty-four hours we were together, we watched all her favourite episodes. I’d rarely seen her flip out over the myriad of celebrities she’s interviewed in the past, but she was frantic as she prepared her questions. Watching the drama unfold between Meredith and Derek Shepherd was nauseating, but I didn’t dare tell her that, fearing that if I insulted one of her favourite TV love-interests, she’d never have sex with me again. Back when we were in high school, I remember tuning out every Tuesday night when she’d watch an episode with her mum over Skype. It was their thing. Most of the time, Uncle Mark and I got roped into watching it too. If they were at mine for dinner, Dad was also conned into watching it. One of the most memorable episodes for all the wrong reasons is where a sexual assault victim bit her attacker’s penis off. I swear all three of our balls shrivelled up at the thought.

‘Do you love her?’ Dad continues to press an uncomfortable Uncle Mark, who is not only acting shifty, but he’s warily staring around the room at who is listening.

The guys are outside, which includes both dads, Rome and myself. Jas refused to invite her new boyfriend around, scared at the bullying tactics that were bound to be thrown his way from the four of us. One of the best things to come from semi reconciling with Amity is getting closer to Rome again. We’ve hung out a few times, and it’s a blast to hear all about his trip with Jagger, but it just solidified that those days are well and truly over for me, and I couldn’t be happier. No amount of pussy could ever be as good as Amity’s.

While we’re outside barbecuing, the girls are inside, preparing the sides. Amity and Crystal are shelling prawns, while Jas, Lily and Ella, who is here for some reason at the request of Amity, are making salads. I don’t want to make a habit of hanging out with colleagues outside of work, but Amity has taken a huge shining to her, so I guess she’s steadily becoming a firm fixture of our inner circle.

‘Linc, what’s up with you and my daughter, son?’ Uncle Mark whistles and sidesteps Dad’s inquisition.

The truth to that answer is so much more complicated than it should be. I love her, and I want to be with her. When we’re together, whether it be in person or over the phone, I feel connected to her in every way, but the fact is, I still don’t know her feelings.

It hasn’t escaped me that she doesn’t say ‘I love you’ back to me, and she always skirts around the issue of what our titles are. It’s the lamest of lame, but I want to go Facebook official with her, which I know is the most pissant, pussy thing to say, but I want the world to know she’s mine. In the media, I’ve been reduced to an ‘old friend’, which irritates the fuck out of me.

We’ve made such strides, but I need more. It’s time for more.

‘I want her more than anything in the world, but the ball is in her court,’ I say, which is the complete truth. All three sets of eyes stare back at me to elaborate. ‘I tell her daily how much I love her and want to take the next step, but she evades the topic.’ I shrug, hoping like hell they just let it go.

‘Give her time, son,’ Dad pats my back while he turns the steaks.

‘She’s come so far. This is huge for her. I’m glad you’re not…rushing her,’ Uncle Mark says cautiously, before he sips his beer.

‘Don’t give up, man,’ Rome tosses my way, with a sympathetic smile. One rule we established pretty early on when we rekindled our friendship was that we wouldn’t talk about Amity behind her back, or the state of our relationship. It’s abundantly clear that he is still Team Amity.

As I rake over the last few months and how much we’ve grown together, I can’t help but be baffled at why she’s holding back.

When the food is just about ready, Amity saunters out letting us know the girls are ready too.

‘Two minutes, tops,’ she tells us, which is code for hurry the fuck up with the last of the rissoles. ‘Hey.’ She leans up to peck me on the lips. I take it as a good sign she’s so openly affectionate in front of everyone. My dick unfortunately twitches at the taste of her mouth, and she’s not helping the situation with what she’s wearing—daisy dukes and a triangle white bikini top that exposes her fabulous chest. Before we started cooking we all took a dip in the pool. As usual, Christmas Day is disgustingly hot.

The last time we were all together for Christmas was the year before she was torn away from my life. Back then it was just the five of us. We were already hot and heavy by then, but we had to try and hide our horniness from both our dads. I remember cheekily fingering her under the table for a minute or so, which, come to think of it, was grossly inappropriate considering our dads were right there, not to mention my baby sister. I can tell Amity is thinking something similar as she stares at my spaced out face and shakes her head.

Something I am still working on is how to adjust to Amity’s eating habits. There is nothing wrong with being healthy, but it is a stark contrast to how we used to eat. I felt worse when I started analysing what is on her plate and what she is putting in her mouth. I don’t want her to see my concern because then she’d misconstrue it as me checking up on her and drawing attention to her issues.

Still, three prawns, one rissole and a few pieces of ham and a couple of scoops of Greek Salad aren’t a lot. I am about to say something quietly to her but then I saw her pack her plate with fruit. In my mind, I know she probably has to maintain her weight for her work, but I can’t help to think she’s overly cautious. It’s still something I need to open up to her about because I don’t know if I’m supporting her the right way. Luckily, she redirects my attention when she asks me to crack open the Christmas cracker with her. Of course, she wins, and proceeds to pop the paper crown on her head and read out a lame dad joke, which cracks her up. There’s also an over-the-top plastic love heart ring inside that she pops on her ring finger.

We all exchange our Kris Kringle gifts, but it seems like Amity forgot the $100 spending limit, much to the delight of her KK, which was Ella, who scored herself a new Yves Saint Laurent clutch. I think even the neighbours heard her squeal and bowl Amity over. I’m sure Amity bought Lily and Jas one too behind our backs because there is no way either one of those girls just accept Ella bagged herself a $3,000 bag, while they got Mecca gift cards.

After lunch and presents everyone goes off in their own direction. I volunteer to wash up, roping Rome into helping. Uncle Mark and Dad are watching the cricket, while Ella and Lily are helping Jas get ready to go out with her friends later. Once Rome and I finish drying the dishes, he heads to the living room with a couple more beers, and I go in search of Amity. We haven’t had much one-on-one time this trip, with her catching up with her parents most of the time.

As I round the corner my steps falter as I hear Amity’s soft voice float from our second living area. Pausing, I wonder if I should interrupt. She’s with her Mum, and I know how precious this time is with her.

‘So what’s up with you and Dad?’ Amity asks, toying with the shaggy pillow that sits in her lap. Her Mum furrows her brow as if she’s still trying to figure it out herself. Side-by-side they look more like sisters.

‘I honestly have no idea,’ Crystal throws her hands up in the air in exasperation. ‘I mean, I’ve always loved your Dad, and it’s so easy with him. We click, you know? I’ve definitely put the signs out there, but he isn’t picking up what I’m putting down.’

‘Well, what’s it like living with him?’ Amity reserves her opinion until she’s gathered more facts.

‘It’s wonderful. We’re so relaxed. It’s like we were back when we were dating. I’ve known him almost my whole life. We’ve never once argued or had a fight. We were always in the same place and had the same feelings. I feel really content being here.’

‘What made you want to come back?’ Amity holds her Mum’s hand in hers.

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