Page 30 of Kiwi Sin
Gray looked at Daisy. She said, “He didn’t ask me, either,” her face doing the kind of shutting-down thing I was used to seeing on women’s faces at Mount Zion, and I thought,Something’s wrong.
All Gray said, though, was, “Cheers for bringing all that. Since Daisy and I are hosting this gathering, though, it may be best if we decide on the seating arrangements.”
My dad looked nothing but surprised. He was so used to being in charge, he forgot sometimes that Gray employedhim.Also, I was starting to get the feeling that having your own place gave you more … rights, or something. At Mount Zion, a man had dominion over his wife and children, but nobody owned their possessions. You got shifted every time somebody outgrew their family room, and it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, as you didn’t have anything but your clothes to move. Nobody outside the family came into your room, either, so the situation didn’t arise.
Dad said, “Excuse me,” maybe grasping some of that, but he didn’t look happy about it. Meanwhile, Oriana’s friend, Aisha, who had an even bolder eye than Patience and was wearing a head scarf that hid her hair, exactly like at Mount Zion, had her head on one side and was staring at each of us in turn, as interested as an archaeologist getting a rare glimpse into a primitive society. Only the hair-covering part was the same, apparently, because Aisha’s gaze was nothing but direct.
We might be missing Chelsea today, but we weren’t missing the astonished undercurrents. My brothers didn’t look happy about Aisha’s presence, and there was a sort of electricity in the room that felt like standing under a transformer. You moved on, because you didn’t want to be shocked.
The moment passed once Daisy and Graydiddetermine the seating arrangements, though, and we ate dinner and exchanged news without further drama. My mum’s new job, Patience about to start school, and the announcement that Radiance was looking after a couple of neighbor kids for extra money. After which Gray said, “Gabriel has a new flat as well,” and I agreed that, yes, I did, tried to project something daring and glamorous, and didn’t share the disgusting details.
Now, after we’d eaten pasta and meatballs in tomato sauce that, again, tasted totally unlike anything I’d ever managed to cook for myself, and had also been cooked once again by Oriana, Gray and Daisy were getting up from the couch and starting to collect plates. Most of the women jumped up the second it happened, including Oriana. Daisy said, “We’re fine. You cooked on your birthday already. That’s enough. Want to help with this, Frankie?”
Frankie, who along with Aishahadn’tjumped up, said, “Interesting that it’s me you ask, and not one of the men.”
Daisy said, “They’re guests here,” in a firm, even tone I imagined she’d practiced, and Frankie stood up with clear reluctance. I considered standing up myself and offering—I certainly knew how to do the washing-up by now, after all my practice—but I had a feeling that would cause another scene.
Instead, I watched Oriana. Not too difficult, since we were both eating at the benchtop today, with Patience and Aisha on my other side. The single people, I guessed, except Frankie, who existed in a sort of in-between space and had been sitting alone on the couch as if she didn’t really want to be here. Oriana, on the other hand, was fizzing with excitement, and I thought,Why?Mentioning somebody’s birthday wasn’t usual, but it wasn’t forbidden, and really, what was wrong with being given fewer chores to do on your birthday? Everybody would have one eventually and get their turn, right? Maybe considering yourself as special was wrong, but in comparison to everything else we’d adjusted to, it didn’t seem that bad.
Frankie, still saying nothing, began loading the dishwasher, and Daisy and Gray disappeared, but came back a couple of minutes later holding cakes. Gray’s had white icing and Daisy’s had pink, and hers also had lighted pink candles stuck in. They were singing a song, and Aisha jumped up and joined in loudly as the rest of us looked at each other. I’d heard the song before, since a couple of the kids had had birthdays while I’d been staying with Drew, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to sing it in front of my dad.
This was a change, you could say. Pure worldliness, creeping in under the doorjamb.
Daisy and Gray put the cakes on the benchtop in front of Oriana as the song ended. The one with the candles had her name written on it in shaky script along with a big “17,” and Gray said, “Make a wish.”
Oriana stared at the cake as if it contained every worldly delight and asked, “A wish?”
“A wish that you hope will come true, this next year,” Gray said. “Then, if you wave all the candles out fast, you’ll get your wish. That’s the idea. I always blew them out, but Daisy says it’s unhygienic, and I reckon she’d know. Oh, and it’s a secret wish. If you tell, it won’t come true.”
Dad stood up and said, his voice no louder than usual but deadly serious, “We don’t wish. We pray. I haven’t said anything about the way you’ve let the girls cut their hair and wear tight trousers and all that makeup, Daisy. And Gray. I’ll say it even if I’m working for you, because it needs to be said. I’ve thought that continuing their schooling is good, but I can’t approve of putting a good girl like Oriana above herself. Seating her in the best spot, letting her sit idle, and now this, wishing for things for herself? Expecting them? It’s spoiling her for marriage.”
Daisy said, her eyes striking some sparks but her voice deliberately calm, “I don’t agree, but I’m not going to argue about it here, in Gray’s house.”
“That’s not yours to say,” Dad said.
“It’s exactly hers to say,” Gray said. “Nobody but hers. Oriana’s her sister.”
“I’m her uncle,” Dad said. “Constance is her aunt. The younger must be guided by the elder.” His voice was even quieter now, the way he sounded when you knew you had to do what he said. That level of quiet had sobered me, and sometimes scared me, as a kid. My dad, in fact, did the same thing Gray did, and that calm mask was powerful.
Gray said to Daisy, speaking so low that I could barely hear it, “Are you sure this is the hill you want to die on?”
Daisy said, just as quietly, “Yes. Because I’m tired of this.”
Gray said, “Then I’m right off your shoulder.”
Daisy squeezed his hand, and I saw it, on the other side of the benchtop, but my parents probably couldn’t. I’d seen enough open physical touch between couples by now not to be shocked—Drew and Hannah held each other every time they were close enough to do it, him with a hand on her lower back, her draping her legs over him as they lay together on the couch—but I doubted my dad had, and we didn’t need another point of contention.
We had enough, because now, Daisy came out and said the worst thing.
“The critical point,” she told Dad, “is that this is how Gray and I are celebrating Oriana’s birthday, wishing and all. I don’t see anything sinful about it. What’s praying anyway but wishing, and thinking that if you wish exactly right, it’ll come true?”
Frozen silence, was what this was. Or possibly a glimpse of the fires of Hell.
Dad said, his voice shaking a bit, “That’s Satan’s voice speaking, tempting you out of the right path. You endanger your immortal soul.”
Daisy said, “Reckon I’ll take my chances. Meanwhile, it’s still Oriana’s day. Make a wish,” she told her.
Oriana said, all her happy expectancy gone, “I don’t need to wish.”
