Page 23 of Fractured (Not Quite a Billionaire)
She smiled. “Nah, guess not. Mother Teresa was five feet tall, eh.”
“I’m not Mother Teresa,” I said. “Unfortunately. Or I probably wouldn’t have said that just now.”
“Good thing, too,” Hemi had to put in. “As she was a nun. Put me right off my stride, haven’t you, Vi. Cheers for the mental picture.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “By the way, Hemi, I’ve got a shopping list for you. I’ll text it to you, now that I know you’ll be needing it.”
“About that…” he said.
He walked with her across the room while Karen called out, “You’d better not be telling him about her dress. It’s bad luck.” And I thought that surely, that was impossible. It was what Hemi had said. The doors were down, or at least open, and that breeze blowing through them? That was nothing but the fresh air of a brand-new start.
We were driving back through Auckland, then, inching along in rush-hour traffic to get out of the city and back to the coast. Hemi didn’t betray any annoyance at the delay. He was back to his customary stillness, fully under control again. So I had to tease him, naturally. “You know,” I said, “if you’d told me about your first marriage up front like a normal person, we’d practically be home by now, and I’d have tried on my wedding underwear, so you’d only have had to pay for one set, and soI’dhave known that I’d found something that would make you happy to see me on Saturday night. I might even have bought shoes. I feel compelled to mention that.”
Karen heaved a mighty sigh from behind us. “Never mind me. I’ll just be reading my book here and ignoring the inappropriate conversational topics. Do I really want to move in with the two of you? That’s what I’m asking myself.”
The corner of Hemi’s mouth twitched. “Call it role modeling,” he said to Karen. “Learning how to keep your future husband on his toes, eh. And moving in with me isn’t a choice.”
Karen said, “Oh,nice,”and Hemi actually laughed. And yes, that was dictatorial, but it was also telling Karen loud and clear that he wanted her, and how could that be anything but great?
He said, low enough that Karen couldn’t hear, “I’m guessing I’ll be happy enough to see you on Saturday night. And you know I’ll pay for as many sets of lingerie as you want to buy.” Then he punched a button on the steering wheel to turn on the playlist from his phone and added, “This is so you can’t ask me my favorite color or how I felt after my dog died when I was eleven.”
“Didyour dog die when you were eleven?”
“Nah. Didn’t have a dog.”
“And, see?” I said. “You just shared. Hardly hurt at all, I’ll bet.”
He smiled, then fell silent again, the radio played, and as the kilometers of gray highway spooled away behind us as the scene changed from apartments and commercial buildings to green hillsides dotted by sheep, and then to the flat farmlands that lay between Auckland and the Bay of Plenty.
After a while, I closed my eyes and drifted into a half-sleep. Fighting is tiring, and relief is exhausting. Or maybe that depends on how much you need it.
I jerked awake to the sound of a ringing phone, then Hemi’s voice saying, “Te Mana.”
A male voice boomed from the speaker by my ear. “Walter Eagleton here. I’ve got your answer. The reason your divorce certificate wasn’t accepted by the registrar is that you’re still married.”
Hope
There was silence in the car for a second, then the music started up again, and I almost thought I’d dreamed what I’d heard. Then I saw the look on Hemi’s face, and I realized what he’d done. He’d hung up, like that would work, like I’d just…what? Forget it?
His driving was still smooth and controlled, his hands firm on the wheel. Of course they were. I said, “Call him back.”
Karen asked, “What’s going on?”
I ignored her. Hemi still hadn’t moved or said anything, so I said it again. “Call him back. Right now.”
He glanced at me, then back at the road, his face still completely impassive. “No.”
“Then let me out of this car,” I said.
“I’ll ring him later,” he said. “We’ll talk about it when I know more.”
Have you ever heard the saying, “steam came out of her ears”? Well, that was me. “No,” I said. “We’ll talk about it right now. What do you think I was telling you back in the café? Was that just…just noise to you? Call himback.”
Hemistilldidn’t answer, and I was trying to think of what else to say, trying to contain myself, and knowing there was no way. He was slowing for a town, and for one crazy second, I actuallydidthink of jumping out. I was that mad.
I’d never been all that tough, but it seemed people could change. Or maybe it was just that everybody had a limit, and I’d reached mine.
Hemi was parking, though, still without a word, in a diagonal spot on the street, and I clamped my mouth shut and waited.
