Page 43 of Kiwi Gold
His eyes, the deep green of New Zealand jade and sometimes just as hard, were steady on her. “No,” he said. “And neither are you, or he’d surely be here. Can’t imagine a man letting you do this by yourself. Except Peter, of course. I heard he left his family when his kids were young. Can’t say I was surprised.”
“Dad,” I said. Quietly, because I was meant to be supportive here, but geez. You didn’t rub somebody’s face in their bad decision.
“He did,” Philippa said. “He didn’t disappear entirely, though. Lachlan went to work for him, in fact, when he finished University.”
Dad said, “I know.” He shot a glance at Lachlan. “How did that work out? Not so well, I reckon, not once the drink really took hold.”
Lachlan said, for once not sounding relaxed, “I learned a fair amount, and I’m on my own now. As you also know.”
“And I,” Philippa said, “reckoned I was better off. And nobody ‘lets’ me do anything, which is one reason I’m not eager to jump into the fire again. How about you?”
A long silence that I didn’t think Dad would break. Then he said, “The opposite. Didn’t expect to find it once. I know I’m not going to find it again.”
Lexi said, “That’s touching, and I reckon it’s good … well, for the rest of them, it’s good to know they’ve gotsomecommitment genes, if that’s a thing. Also no jealous wife to promote the interests of her own kid, like in some Arabian harem. But excuse me. Reason for hatred and estrangement, please. Still waiting.”
Larissa said, “Surely we should let the conversation evolve naturally. This isn’t easy for anybody.”
Lexi said, “Nah, best ask him now. How do we know we’ll ever see him again? If I were him, I’d bugger off pretty smartly. Next thing he knows, we’ll be asking for a share of the inheritance.”
Dad was grinning despite the “Arabian harem” comment. “D’you get that honesty from your mum, then?” he asked.
“No,” Lexi said. “I’m guessing I get it from you, because nobody else likes it.”
He grinned again and said, “Nobody but me,” and I got a stab of pure jealousy right to the heart. A ridiculous part of me wanted to cry out,You wanted a good girl, though. A good daughter who’d make a good wife and mother, and that’s what I’ve been.I repeated my mum’s line to myself again, about praying for blessings for my new half-sisters. It didn’t help much, but at least I felt guilty about the jealousy. Step One, possibly.
“Any more questions I can get out of the way now?” Dad asked, looking around the table. “Philippa?”
“I never had any questions,” she said composedly. “You’re all good with me. You provided the sperm. Job done. I didn’t know they’d ambushed you. I’d have told them not to. What’s the point? But as you’re here—let’s order some beer and food. What would you like?” I could all but hear her say,I’m their parent. Don’t get any ideas.
“Not an ambush,” Dad said. “A surprise. Give me the orders, though, and I’ll take care of it. But I won’t get a beer. I don’t drink.”
“Oh.” Philippa’s face changed completely, and the other women—the daughters—the sisters—looked at each other. “Do you have a drinking problem, then?” Philippa asked. “Sorry, but as we’re here—it’s admirable that you’ve addressed it, of course, but the tendency will still be there, and the girls should know.”
“And here we thought we were safe,” Lark said, “not having Peter’s genes.”
“He’s not an alcoholic,” Liana said. “He only drinks at the weekends now.”
Lark ignored her and went on. “And Lexi, I’ll just say—you see now that I was right, and you need to be more careful. You say it’s just having fun, and that you’re under control.Isay it’s dependence.”
Larissa chimed in, “Alcoholism is at least fifty percent hereditary, Lexi.”
“He’s not—” Liana said, but Lexi, who’d flushed red, interrupted her to say, “For the last time, I am not an alcoholic! Just because a person doesn’t have a stick up their bum, that doesn’t mean they have a drinking problem. Also, who got pissed on New Year’s Eve, exactly? All of us.Includingyou, Lark. I was there.”
“Except me,” Larissa said.
“Because you’repregnant,”Lexi said, then told Dad, “You’ve got grandchildren, by the way. Two and a half of them. Who are now going to be watched with an eagle eye for signs of your drinking problem.” She turned back to Lark, then. “I’m naturally expressive, that’s all, and I have thrill-seeking genes. Probably from Torsten.”
Dad was definitely amused now. “I don’t have a drinking problem. You’re safe there, and so are your kids. I’m Norwegian. Pretty sober lot anyway, and I’m Muslim. Which isn’t hereditary.”
Everybody looked more than surprised, and all at once, I knew that I couldn’t bear hearing my dad telling his story,ourstory. Our family’s story.
Plus—You’ve got grandchildren.
I should be happy for them. For Dad. For everybody. Any mother of twins knows that you can love more than one child, even when they both turn up at once. More than one grandchild, too. But I couldn’t manage it, not right now. I said, “I’ll get the food, Dad, so you can chat,” and stood up.
Beside me, Lachlan stood, too, and said, “I’m thinking my presence isn’t required anymore, as the ice is well and truly broken. Do you want to hang about for the story of the hatred and estrangement, Laila, or would you rather go to dinner?”
Oh, how I wanted to go to dinner. Someplace quiet, where I could absorb all this. But I’d told Dad I’d come to support him, and now, I was running out? And did Lachlan really want to leave his sisters? I hesitated, and Dad said, “No need to stay for me. But I need a word first,” and stood up himself amidst a flurry of food-and-drink decision-making by the others.
