Page 88 of Just Say (Hell) No
That was when Hugh Latimer and Josie Pae Ata walked by. Marko said, “See ya, mate,” and Hugh nodded and hesitated, but Josie had that distant expression again, that fixed smile, and was looking straight past them as if she couldn’t wait to get out of there.
Beautiful on the outside, and that was all. Pity.
The fatigue was trying to get the best of Marko on the forty-five-minute drive home, his eyes closing despite himself until he jerked them open again.
First had come the brutal match against the Lions at the pressure cooker that was Ellis Park in Johannesburg. Playing at altitude on the Highveld, battling all that South African physicality in front of one of the best rugby crowds in the world. This time, the duel had resulted in a loss for the Blues, which always drained you so much more than a win, even if the effort had technically been the same. Something about not getting the adrenaline rush that carried you through the next day, or just that to play at this level, you had to hate losing. Then there were the eighteen hours in the air, a thirteen-hour time change, and having to switch gears already, to focus on getting his aching body and his mental state back to the place where he could turn around and do it all again. It was always about next Saturday night.
That was the job, and he was lucky to have it. It was still a job. And whinging about it being too hard got you exactly nowhere.
Nyree glanced across the car at him and asked quietly, “Tired, eh,” and he smiled and said, “Nothing a bit of time in the spa tub won’t cure.” She put her hand on his for a moment, then returned her focus to the road. She could have overtaken the car in front, but she didn’t. After a moment, he saw why, when a white sedan sped past on the right. He said, “I remember this drive as more hair-raising.”
She said, “Maybe it’s different with Ella in the car. Or something. I could be getting responsible. Ugh.”
That one made him laugh. “When were you not responsible?”
“I’m not. I’ve never been.”
“Yeh. You are. Think about it again.”
“You totally are,” Ella insisted from the back seat. “Nothing like living with Mum, except when you’re, like, wrapped up with painting. But we never run out of eggs or bread, and you always ask about school. That’s pretty much the definition of responsible.”
“Time for me to ask, too,” Marko said, shaking off the fatigue once again, because he could all but feel Ella’s vibrating excitement, her emotions careening around like the ball in a Ping-Pong match, how she was nearly bursting at the seams to share. “Tell me about the parent search.”
“OK,” Ella said. “So, you know, I did that thing Nyree suggested, weeding them down. I copied and pasted the best ones into one document, and then I made a spreadsheet of variables. Like a matrix. I weighted them so everybody got a numerical score.”
“Very organized,” Nyree put in. “Very impressive. You should have her show you.”
“Anyway,” Ella said. “So at the end of that, I had four couples with the highest scores. I didn’t want anybody to get the babies if they already had kids, like it was their good deed or something to rescue them. I want to make somebodyhappy,you know? I want to make themparents,like maybe they thought they couldn’t be. That’s thepoint.And I didn’t want people that were too flash. I want them to play music with the kids, like our family, and play cricket on the beach, and go fishing. I want them to dofamilythings. Regular things. And other variables, too. How old they were, education, all that.”
“Got it,” Marko said. “Nobody too flash, and nobody with kids. But you found four couples who seemed good.”
“Yeh,” Ella said. “I rang the social worker, and she rangthem,and all of them said twins were fine, but only three of them seemed, like, excited. So I talked to all of those on the phone, and Nyree listened. It washard,because I could tell they’d be really disappointed and all. I felt bad for them, but I have to know I’m picking the best ones, right?”
Marko reached into the back and took her hand. “Yeh,” he said. “You do. No worries. And we’ll keep on making sure. We’ll go meet them and see what we all think.”
“I wanted to do it straight away, though,” Ella said. “It’s getting hard to wait. I want to feel like the babies are settled. Like I have a place for them.”
“Never mind,” Marko said. “Look at it this way. Less time for everybody to wait, once you decide. And imagine how they’ll feel when they meet you and see that belly, eh.”
“Yeh,” Ella said. “Thanks. Super helpful, reminding me of that. Geez, Marko.” But she was laughing, and so was Nyree. So that was better.
At least the conversation had got them closer to home, where Cat went through her ecstatic greeting routine, Marko picked her off him twice and put her back on her gym, and she jumped back onto him both times. She’d conquered her world at last, because she was sitting on the top platform now. She was more sleek than fuzzy, she’d grown even more than Ella’s belly, and she was louder than ever, but she still thought she should sit on his shoulder. When he finally set her on the floor and headed upstairs with his bag, she trotted behind him.
“You’re actually a dog,” he told her. “A disgrace to Catdom. You do realize that.”
In answer, she meowed.
Ella went into her room and shut the door, her phone already in her hand. Texting Kors, probably, or maybe Caro. Not looking like she needed him at this particular moment, anyway.
That was when he realized that Nyree wasn’t with him. He swore, turned around again, and went back downstairs with Cat at his heels.
He found her in the kitchen, making a cup of tea. “Oi,” he said. “Why?”
“Why what?” The jug boiled, and she poured boiling water over the bag and said, “Do you want one?”
“No,” he said. “I want a beer. In the spa tub. With you.”
“Oh. Well, get a beer, then.”
