Page 68 of Kiwi Sin
27
UNEXPLORED TERRITORY
Oriana
On Saturday afternoon, I finished folding my laboriously pitted sweet-tart pie cherries carefully into the almond cake, then scraped the batter gently into the springform pan, smoothed the top, sprinkled on the sugar-dusted slivered almonds, slid the pan into the oven, and set the timer.
There. That was the first part done. I had about five more things to make and not quite enough time to do it, because I’d helped Iris at the farmer’s market today. That had meant getting up at five, and I’d only just got home in time to take a quick shower and change into a dress and apron. That was all right, though, because I had Priya to help me, and it wasn’t a special occasion.
I’d be very calm tonight. Very adult. I was cooking dinner for my family, and Gabriel was part of my family, that was all. Anyway, however much I’d like it to be, life Outside wasn’t any more like a Disney movie than life in Mount Zion had been, and I wasn’t a princess. I was like anybody else now, going to school, working at a job, and contributing what I could. Which, today, was dinner, because Daisy was working the day shift, and weekends were busy in Emergency. Frankie, of course, was still in Wanaka. Priya texted with her, I knew, but Frankie seemed to be glad for the distance from the rest of us. Gray? He was working, too, weekend or no, because the university projects were on as tight a timeline as the house.
I was happy to feed them. I wasproudto feed them. They were my family.
And then there was Priya, who was sitting at the kitchen bench, mincing garlic and ginger,. None too quickly, because she was half-swiveled around, watching a film on Gray’s big TV. Something she did as much as possible.
I needed to talk to her about that. The TV.
Then do it.Here we were, after all, just the two of us.
I could ask Daisy to do it instead. I could tell her the problem, and …
It’s not Daisy’s problem to handle. It’s yours. You want to be adult? Time to start.
I resisted the urge to begin separating eggs for my custard sauce, reached for the remote instead, and turned the TV off.
“Oi,” Priya said. “I was watching that.”
“I know,” I said. “And I think you watch too much.” Then felt a bit sick. I was good at telling little kids what to do. Not so much with people my age.
Priya scowled. Like Frankie, she’d shed Mount Zion’s rules like taking off a coat. I was envious, honestly. “Why do you get to decide that?” she asked. “How is it your business?”
“Maybe it’s not my business here,” I said. “But at Laila’s, it’s my business. I know you take the girls into Laila’s bedroom and watch TV in the afternoons. We can hear it.”
“So?” Priya said. “If she thinks I shouldn’t, she can tell me.”
“She did. She told you the things she’d like you to do with the girls. Play with them. Read with them. Draw with them. Take them on the bus to the beach. Take them to the park. Heaps of things you can do, that sheaskedyou to do.”
“She can—” Priya started again.
“She can’t,” I said. “It’s not like Mount Zion. She doesn’t trust that you’ll stay if she cracks down, because she knows you don’t have to obey the rules. There are only a few weeks left in the school holidays, and how’s she going to find another babysitter for that time? She knows that she’s stuck with you. And she’s working as hard as she can to feed those girls, to pay her mortgage, to payus.She doesn’t need another worry.”
“She’s rich, though,” Priya said. “She has ahouse.With her own cooker, and her own bathroom!”
Had I ever been like this? Yes, I had. I’d been worse. “No,” I said. “She’s not. I know it’s hard to see, but she’s supporting those girls on her earnings, and she’s got a leak under the kitchen sink and mildewed caulk all around the bath. Her windowsills need scraping and painting, her lino is peeling, and so many other things. She doesn’t have time to fix all that, or money to hire somebody else to do it.”
“How do you know?” Priya asked, because unlike me, she’d always press you.
“I don’t,” I said. “But I know she tracks her expenses, and there’s a way she frowns when she’s going through the props, and a way she’s grateful when I can make some of them, or even when I offer to hem the cloths. Anyway, when you say that … don’t you hear how it sounds? Like she deserves to be taken advantage of, or like you aren’t obligated to do your best? And I’m the one who brought you in. When you don’t do the job well enough, it reflects on me, too, and I love my job. Ineedmy job.”
“I like my job, too, though,” Priya said. “You act like I don’t care. I like the girls. I take good care of them, too. The last person drank alcohol and had holdovers!”
“Hangovers.”
“Whatever. Besides, they love to watch TV.”
I hesitated, then said, “You know … not everything they told us at Mount Zion was wrong. At least it doesn’t seem that way to me.”
“Youleft.”
