Page 42 of Just Come Over
“I have to stay here tomorrow night,” she said, “because you have to do your job.”
“That’s right. Tomorrow, though, we’ll bring your own PJs. For tonight, you can choose. We’ll go home now and put you to bed—straightto bed—or you can stay up a bit longer, watch a movie with Isaiah, and do a practice run at staying over.”
She chose to stay, “because Isaiah has cartoon movies, and you don’t.” Fair point.
At least they didn’t have to watchMoanaagain. Casey had been fairly devastated last night, in the form of her face crumpling up in the way Rhys couldn’t stand, to find that herMoanaDVD wouldn’t play in New Zealand. They’d had to go out after dinner—the night when he’d planned on both of them being in bed by eight-thirty—to hunt down a region-friendly copy, and then she’d had to watch it, “to make sure it works.” She’d looked too small sitting on the couch alone, her second night in his house, which had meant he’d had to watch it with her, which hadn’t been the plan at all. They’d both fallen asleep on the couch, but she’d felt relaxed in his arms this time, which was surely better.
Never mind. She’d slept in her own bed, eventually, and he’d slept in his. That was a start. He’d begin instilling discipline next week, when she was used to him, and they had their routine down.
They’d ended up watching some cartoon movie about a Yeti tonight, which was silly, but the kids had liked it. And when Casey had leaned into him on the couch, then had fallen asleep against him in her robot-intensive PJs? It hadn’t been such a bad Friday night, especially when he’d carried her to bed and tucked her in, and she’d turned toward him with her eyes nearly closed, wrapped her arms around his neck, and asked sleepily, “Do you really promise to come tomorrow?”
“I promise.” He hesitated a moment, then leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Good night, Casey Moana.”
She sighed and closed her eyes. “Night.”
“Night, mate,” he told Isaiah. “Well done on helping Casey with her cards tonight, even though I’m still calling beginner’s luck. Next time, it’s revenge.”
Isaiah climbed up the ladder and scrambled into the top bunk. “No,” he said. “I think I’m just better.” And Rhys had to laugh. The boy went on, “I have to help her, I guess. Because I’m older.”
“Yeh. I was an older brother once, myself.”
“With my dad.” Isaiah had turned toward him, resting on his elbow, his eyes sober. “You were his big brother.”
“I was. I looked after him, but I didn’t always do it kindly. You do better at that. A good heart matters, eh. Probably makes you miss him, too.”
Isaiah looked thoughtful. “I don’t think I miss him. He wasn’t at home very much until he got sick. Mostly it was just Mum, and she’s still here.”
“Tossed the rugby ball with you and all, though,” Rhys said.
“Mostly Mum does that,” Isaiah said. “I don’t remember Dad doing it. So I don’t think it happened very many times.”
Not much of an epitaph.
Now, both kids were asleep, Hayden had left, and Zora still wasn’t home. It had been three hours. How long were they planning to spend over this dinner? Or had that fella taken her somewhere else after? Rhys wasn’t sitting up here all night. He had work to do.
He was just thinking it when he heard something outside. A car, switching off. A door slamming, and then another. He’d been making a note, but his head went up, and he listened.
Thirty seconds. Sixty. More. What were they doing out there?
Never mind. He knew.
The house was silent except for the occasional barely-ticking-over sound of a fridge motor humming into life, the random pop of a not-that-well-built house settling. Surely those were voices, though, just at the edge of his hearing. He set his notebook down, headed toward the kitchen, thought better of it, and sat on the couch again.
A door opening, another soft word, and footsteps, and hedidstand up. Zora came through the world’s tiniest dining room and into the lounge carrying her purse in one hand. When she saw him, though, she stopped short.
“Oh,” she said. “Hayden gone?”
“Yeh. Off to find some nightlife.” Her lipstick was smeared, surely. “Casey wanted to stay the night. I hope that’s OK.”
“Of course.” She bent and pulled off first one shoe, then the other, stood up again with them in one hand, and smiled at him. “I’m not used to heels, although I should probably wear them more. Makes me taller, eh. I’m not sure these were right, though. Too businesslike, you think? I’m out of practice.”
She sounded breathless. Also, her lipstick wasdefinitelysmeared. He said, “Nah. I was thinking that they looked good. Thatyoulooked good. Pretty. I thought.”
Yes, he was Captain Suave. She smiled a little and said, “You’re more complimentary than Hayden, anyway.” Her hand went up to pull back her tousled hair from her face, and then she shook her head and the hair settled around her again, so what had been the point, other than to heat his blood a little more? “Would you like a beer?”
“Depends,” he said. “Are you going to have one?”
“Yes.” She set the shoes down beside an armchair. “I had wine with dinner, and I have a wedding to do tomorrow, but I want a beer anyway. Decompressing. Should a date require decompressing?”
