Page 103 of Just Come Over
“Brioche,” Zora said. “More dessert than breakfast, really.”
“If you ask them to,” Casey said, “they will put them in a little box and put whipped cream in the box.”
Rhys was about to say, “Eggs on toast. Tomato. Mushrooms.” Instead, he asked Zora, “D’you want a brioche? Breakfast, then dessert?”
“Possibly,” she said. “Or possibly, I’d kill for one.”
He laughed again. He had one of the toughest matches of the season coming up tonight, so why was being here better than being home alone, where he could think about it?
Because he’d made his preparations, and until things started unfolding tonight, it was out of his hands. He didn’t even give the motivational speech anymore. He left that to the skipper. The players were the ones out there on the field, and they needed the confidence of knowing the game was in their hands, and that they could seize it. Leadership wasn’t always telling people what to do. Sometimes, it was finding the right people to do the telling.
What he’d said to Zora was true. The way you’d always done things might not be the best way in the world. He said, “Sounds like I’d better provide, then.”
He did, and then he cooked breakfast, did the washing-up, and took the kids to the park for some rugby practice while Zora did her deliveries, which would help, too.
When he’d taken them through their warmups and passing drills and was going through some kicking with Casey, Isaiah said, “You kissed Mum on the lips again today.”
“I did.” Rhys kicked the ball back to Casey, watched as she jumped for it and brought it down, thought,Not bad, monkey,then turned his attention back to the boy.
What did you say? Something simple, he guessed, and true. He decided on, “That’s because I love her.”
“You’re my uncle, though,” Isaiah said. “Your uncle isn’t supposed to kiss your mum. I asked my friend Aiden. He said, your mum cansayhe’s your uncle, but he isn’t really. That just means he sleeps in your mum’s bed and they have sex, but he’s not your stepdad. But you reallyaremy uncle. Uncle Hayden only kisses Mum on the cheek, and only sometimes. Usually, he just kind of hugs her.”
“Because he’s her brother,” Rhys said. He kicked another ball back to Casey and tried not to sweat. Was he meant to get into a discussion of incest taboos here? He’d better not be supposed to explain sex. Did you do that at eight years old? He’d known by then, but he’d learned from his cousins. Also, their information may not have been precisely accurate.
“Butyou’rekind of her brother too,” Isaiah said. “You’re my dad’s brother. That’s almost the same.”
“But not,” Rhys said. “We don’t share blood.” Seemed hewastalking about incest taboos.
“Yuck. People don’t shareblood.Except if they’re vampires, and that’s not sharing, either. That’sdrinking.”
Rhys had to laugh, but rearranged his face when Isaiah looked affronted. “Means we’re not in the same family,” he explained. “We don’t have the same mum and dad, and we’re not cousins, either, whose parents—or their grandparents or aunties or uncles, if you’re Maori, which you are—had the same mum and dad.”
“Oh.” Isaiah considered that. “Like Casey.”
“Exactly like Casey.”More than you know, mate.
“Aiden still says it’s gross, though,” Isaiah persisted. “If you’re kissing Mum, I mean, even though he says it’s probably good, because you’re famous, and because you’re richer than her, and boyfriends sometimes buy things. But Mum is very busy. She always says she doesn’t have time to do fun things at the weekend. She has to go to bed early, and then she has to clean the house and go grocery shopping and do paperwork and lots of other things when she’s done with the flowers. I don’t think she has time to have a boyfriend.”
Zora might know what to say about that, but she wasn’t here. Rhys was, so he took his best shot. “Could be you’re the one missing some time with her,” he said. “Sharing her with Casey, and with me. Could be that your Saturday isn’t looking like you think it should.”
“Yes. Because I wanted to ask Aiden to come over today and build robots with me, but Casey’s still going to be there, and she can’t go home, because of your game.”
“Oh. Huh.” Rhys considered that, then had to sprint for a wild ball from Casey. “Here,” he told Isaiah, flicking the ball to him from behind his back. “Talking and training’s better. Keep your head up and your eye on Casey while you’re kicking it. She’s your target. Your foot goes where your eye does.”
Isaiah kicked. “Better,” Rhys said. “Always think about where you’re sending it. You’re never just booting it off into space. You always have a plan.”
“OK.”
“Here’s another idea. Why don’t you tell your mum that you need some time with your friend?”
“Because Casey will be lonesome if I say she can’t come in my room, and she’ll be more lonesome if Aiden’s there. I have to be nice, because her mum died, and she’s only six.”
“It’s hard to be nice when you’re feeling narky,” Rhys said. “And the narkier you feel, the harder it is to hide it, until you can’t be nice at all anymore, and you explode, which is no good for anybody. At least that’s what generally happens to me. Your mum’s a pretty clever lady. If you tell her what you told me, I reckon she can think of something that will work for everybody.”
Which was, yes, booting the ball into space without a plan. Fortunately, Zora was good at picking it up and running with it. He’d have a word with her when he dropped the kids off.
One step at a time.
