Page 97 of Kiwi Sin
Gray said, “I love you, too, Iris,” and grinned, and she snorted. Then he turned back to Gabriel and said, “I trusted you to get it done and get it done right, and you justified my trust. Ready to go to work on the new job tomorrow? I know you should get a holiday after all that, and over Christmas and all, too. If you want it, I’ll give it to you, but …”
“I don’t need a holiday,” Gabriel said. “I’m ready.” He hesitated a moment, then said, “My dad …”
“I’m sure he’ll have an opinion,” Gray said. “But I didn’t ask him. I asked you. Five days a week, and no overtime for a good while.”
Gabriel cleared his throat, then said again, “I’m ready. And I’m still planning to marry Oriana.”
“I don’t blame you,” Gray said. “These sisters are awesome, eh.”
“Daisy won’t think it’s awesome.” That wasn’t Gabriel. It was me.
“Reckon you’ll have to decide what to do about that, then,” Gray said.
He wasn’t smiling now. Then he looked back at the yurt as if he couldn’t help it, and I told Gabriel, “Come on.” They needed privacy for this.
Normally, on Sunday, I worked. In the garden, and on my knitting projects, and shopping for groceries and so forth. That morning, I didn’t. I made tea, and Gabriel, to my shock, fried tomatoes and mushrooms and cooked eggs and bacon and toast, popping the things into the oven as he finished fixing them on the two-burner cooker so they’d stay warm.
When I’d pulled out the frying pan and he’d taken it from me and said, “I’ll do it,” I’d said, “You’re joking.”
“I’m practicing,” he’d said, “or maybe proving a point,” and smiled at me, and I’d lost a little more of my breath.
Priya didn’t say much, but she watched, and I didn’t care. Gabriel and I took our plates down to the bench in the garden, where the sun was drying the mist from the plants and the birds were still singing, and he said, “I’d like to have a patio or a balcony in our flat. It’ll cost more, but I’d still like to.”
“Yes,” I said. “Me, too.”
After that, he was quiet, and after a while, I took our plates back to the caravan and got my knitting, and Gabriel sat with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped between them and was still. The birds sang, the bees hummed in the beds of pink and purple Agastache, the smell of mint wafted over to us from the flowers, and sitting beside Gabriel was … peace.
That was where we were when Gray and Daisy came down the track, holding hands.
Daisy was the most practical, efficient, focused person I’d ever known, and I’d grown up in Mount Zion. Today, though … today, I knew what “stars in her eyes” meant.
She asked, “Where’s Priya?”
I set down my knitting and stood up. “In the caravan. I’ll get her.”
“Never mind,” Daisy said. “I will.” She did, and once we were all gathered together, she said, “We’re getting married. Gray and me, I mean. Well—” She laughed and pushed at her hair. “Obviously Gray and me. And our bedroom has an ensuite. It’s the most … it’s the most …”
Gray put an arm around her and said, “She’s always wanted an ensuite.”
Gabriel said, “Congratulations. That’s awesome, about the wedding.”
Daisy focused on him, then. “You did it, Gray says. The marble in there, taking care to get it perfect. Itisperfect, too.”
“Yeh,” he said. “I wanted it to be nice. It was important to him.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
A phone warbled. Daisy patted herself and said, “No pockets. It’s yours, Gray.”
“I’m ignoring it,” he said, and did.
Another warble. Mine. I pulled it out of my apron pocket and looked at it. “It’s Frankie,” I told them.
“Put it on speaker,” Daisy said, and I did. And if you’re wondering if part of me was thinking,Maybe this is the time to bring up Gabriel and me,you’re right. But another part of me was thinking,This is exactly the wrong time to bring it up. Let Daisy have her happy day.
Frankie said, “Hi, Oriana. Where’s Daisy?”
“Right here,” Daisy said. “You’re on speaker, and you’realmostthe first to know. Are you in the car? Is Honor with you?”
