Page 91 of Just Say (Hell) No
“Now, you see,” he said, giving her a kiss on that mouth, and then a couple more. “That’s where you’re wrong. Life’s a battle all the way, even if all you’re fighting is yourself. And it’s one you can win. For somebody as strong as you? Too right it is. Every time.”
They did cook dinner at home on Friday night. No concessions to anything, in the menu or anything else. One thing, Marko knew for sure. He wasn’t losing tomorrow night, not if he could help it, and he certainly wasn’t losing because he hadn’t eaten right.
His card of the day was all wrong, as far as he was concerned.
The Tower,his mum had written this morning, with a picture of a… yes, tower. Lightning flashing around it, fire burning in it.Sometimes, you have to burn it all down and start over. It can look like destruction and chaos, but you have to clear the ground before you can plant again. One word, baby. Surrender.
One word he was never going to say. Not in his vocabulary.
Grant did come along, which was also fine with him. If you had to do something, it was always better to do it sooner than later. And the minute his former coach walked through the front door, all height and presence and beetling gray eyebrows, it was on.
Nyree got a cuddle from her mum, and one from Grant as well, so there was that. Miriama Armstrong was exactly the same as every other time Marko had met her. A pretty, nearly tiny woman who gave off femininity in waves, as if she’d known all her life that she was destined for good things, and that men would fall over themselves to give them to her. Attentive to Grant and to whomever she was with, and as charming as Grant was gruff. A buffer zone.
“Marko,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek and a smile as if this evening were her big treat, while he took her coat and hung it on a hook. “I was so surprised to hear that Nyree was workinghere.What a lovely house you’ve got. You’ve landed on your feet up here, obviously. And you’ve hung one of Nyree’s paintings as well. So kind.”
“Not really kind,” he said, figuring he might as well get stuck in. “I bought it because I liked it.”
She laughed, and he didn’t have to look at Nyree to know she was stiffening. “Flowers? It’s lovely, of course, but I think I know you better than that.”
“Come in,” he said, because he couldn’t actually throw them out when they’d barely got their shoes off. He shook Grant’s hand, though, first, and if the other man didn’t make it a pissing contest, that was probably because he knew he’d lose. “Come meet my cousin Ella. The reason Nyree moved in, originally, to give her some companionship.”
“Oh,” Miriama said when they were in the kitchen and Ella turned from the fridge, where she was pouring a glass of water. “Goodness. Hello. When are you due, darling? Not too long now, eh.”
“September,” Ella said. “Twins. Hi. I’m Ella.”
“Miriama Armstrong,” Nyree’s mum said. “And my husband Grant. And twins? Heavens. That’s lovely, isn’t it? And you live here with Marko?” Her eyes went between Marko, Nyree, and Ella. “Goodness, I’ve got it all wrong, haven’t I? I thought Nyree was… but then, you said you were a carer, darling,” she told Nyree. “Grant, you should’ve known Nyree wouldn’t bewithMarko. I told you that he has too much respect for you, and she does have good sense, after all.”
“Tense” wasn’t even the word anymore. “I’m with Marko,” Nyree said. “OrwithMarko. And I do have good sense, thanks.”
“Marko’s my cousin,” Ella said, leaning up against the kitchen bench and sipping at her water, her belly making its usual emphatic statement. “He’s gone heaps, though, obviously, so Nyree keeps me company and all, as I’m still in school. She’s not, like, acarer.She just keeps me company.”
Time to offer some support. Marko slid an arm around Nyree’s waist, and she turned to him and said, “Did you open that wine?” Like a woman who needed a glass. Or a bottle.
Nyree wouldn’t have called the evening “enjoyable.” Marko and Grant looked like nothing so much as two male lions circling each other, the elder, canny and lean, bearing the scars of battles won, and the younger arrogant in his strength, sure that this was his time.
It didn’t help that the Blues were playing the Highlanders tomorrow night, though Marko probably had the advantage there. Grant couldwantto win. Marko would actually be on the field making it happen. If he didn’t slam a few former teammates to the deck, Nyree would be surprised.
Her mother talked about their upcoming holiday in Fiji, asked Ella about her school, and told her about Nyree’s sister Kiri. Nyree cut up veggies, drank a glass of wine and then another one, watched Marko cook eye fillets and sauté mushrooms, laid the table, and hoped there wouldn’t be actual bloodshed.
When they sat down to eat, her mum turned her attention to Nyree again. “What about your friend Victoria?” she asked. “I’m confused, darling, because Kane said you still had the place. Not that I ever liked that garage above half. I always thought she had a nerve, charging you for that and still calling herself your friend. I hope you plugged in the carbon monoxide detector I bought you.”
“Mostly,” Nyree pointed out, “that comes fromcarsin garages, not from special garage fumes. It’s Auckland. She could be getting twice that rent. And, yes, she’s still my friend.” Who, she happened to know, was out with Kane at this very minute in Hamilton, since the Crusaders were playing the Chiefs tomorrow. “Wearing the highest heels,” she’d told Nyree, “that I can possibly walk in. You don’t know what it’s like to kiss somebody who’s ten wonderful inches taller than you. Well, wait, of course you do. For me, it’s novel. And Kane’s so good. Did I tell you—” Which meant that Nyree was now in receipt of far more information than she’d ever really wanted about her stepbrother. She may have had a crush on Marko from the age of fourteen, but she’d never had one on Kane. As Ella would say—“Ew.”
“Nonsense,” her mum said, and Nyree tried to remember what they’d been talking about. “I read about carbon monoxide poisoning all the time, especially in state houses and those kinds of shonky places. Explosions as well. With all that paint…”
“Again,” Nyree said, “no open flame. Electric stove, electric water heater, heat pump. No carbon monoxide, either.”
“Anyway,” Ella said, “that’s probably P. Methamphetamine. Somebodysaysit was carbon monoxide making the kids ill or whatever, but don’t you think they were probably cooking drugs and didn’t want to be chucked out?”
Nyree could see the smile lurking in Marko’s eyes. “I don’t think Nyree was cooking P in her garage.”
“In the state houses, I meant,” Ella said. “Obviously not Nyree. She’s not thin enough to have a drugs problem.”
Marko laughed, the rat. Nyree glared at him and said, “Excuse me?” Which only made him laugh some more.
“Have some more wine,” he said, filling up her glass. Probably a bad idea. Or not.
Her mum said, “You’re looking very nice, darling. Very… bright.” She looked her up and down in her red wrap blouse. “Are those big sleeves the style now?”
