Page 8 of Just for Me
So, no, Grant wouldn’t be taking any of it philosophically, even though he was sixty and rugby wasn’t the only thing in his life anymore, because he had, astonishingly, remarried three or four years after Kane’s arrival in En Zed, and that marriage had changed almost everything. Everything but Grant’s nature.
Miriama Armstrong, Luke’s stepmother, was a petite, pretty, gracious Maori lady with a core of steel. She’d made a warm, colorful home for all of them, and somehow, she’d wrapped Grant around her finger in a way Luke’s practical, stoical mum, a better match in every way, had never managed to do.
They’d had a daughter, Kiri, who was a teenager now and all right. Shut down a bit, like Luke and Kane, around their dad, not to mention her mum, who could give Grant a run for his money when it came to pushing her children, but who wouldn’t be?
Nyree, that was who.
Miriama’s daughter, the fringe benefit or the forced addition—Luke had a feeling Grant saw her more as the latter—had been awkward and a little clumsy back then, at thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. She’d had a brace on her teeth and specs perched on her nose, and had been plump, too, which Luke was sure had horrified his father. Nothing Grant had ever said had made Nyree disciplined, orderly, or good at sport or maths—or shut her up or changed her mind, either. She’d laughed and she’d cried, and she’d always, always talked back. She’d emoted all over the shop, in fact. Luke had been astonished, but he couldn’t say he’d learned much, because he’d been nearly out of the house by then, and anyway, it was too late to change. He was who he was, and that was that. But he’d liked her. He still did. Somebody had to talk, he reckoned, or the world would be a pretty boring place.
He thought about Nyree, her outsized life force, and her own surprising upcoming marriage to Marko Sendoa, a hard man amongst hard men, while he painted trees, because he didn’t want to think about any of the rest of it. About what had happened with his mate, Matt, especially, when Luke had tried to tell him. How appalled he’d been, and how quickly his mind had seemed to fly back to all that nakedness in the changing sheds, all that grabbing in the scrum. It hadn’t gone well, and Luke had only just started telling. The fellas at Nyree’s hen party had seemed OK, and so had Marko, but what would they think if they were asked to play with Luke now?
Was he being brave at last, or just stupid and self-destructive? Why had he come out with this now, when he had absolutely no idea what he was going to do if the worst happened and he was out of the game? Why hadn’t he waited until he’d retired, at least? He’d never had many mates, but at least he’d had a team. At least he’d had parents, such as they were.
What would he be if he had none of it?
Stop it,he told himself, going on doggedly with the trees. You didn’t stay at the top level in international rugby without some emotional equilibrium. He’d always had that, even as a kid. He’d done what he could to make his life work out, and he’d learned to live with the parts that didn’t. His parents hadn’t been much on loving kindness, but they’d cornered the market on stoicism, and it had rubbed off.
If he didn’t have stoicism anymore, though. If the raw places hurt too much to hide … what would he have then?
He didn’t know, so he painted trees and didn’t talk.
Eventually, he’d find out. And then he’d deal with it. No choice.
4
OBVIOUSLY GAY
It had gone six,but Hayden was still painting blades of grass when Zora came in to announce, “Twenty minutes until pizza. Marko phoned and said he was collecting it on the way over. Seems unfair that the two of you have to do the paintingandbuy the pizza, but Marko insisted, and since pizza is Casey’s favorite and it was Rhys’s turn to cook anyway, events snowballed.”
“I’ll just do this next bit first,” Nyree said, which Hayden could have predicted. Nyree was a woman on a mission, even if that mission was painting fairies. At the moment, she was painting a mouse peeking out of Hayden’s grass, which had been inevitable.
“Marko said you’d say that,” Zora said. “He says he’ll take the brush out of your hand again, and carry you downstairs in front of everybody if he has to. He’s getting you one with veggies and cheese, though. I’m supposed to tell you that.”
Nyree laid down her brush. “Because I’m not allowed to eat cured meats. He’ll also have them put pesto sauce on it, just so Iwon’tbe able to resist. And he absolutelywouldcarry me downstairs, or make me think he was about to. Is it bad that I like that about him?”
“Not to me,” Zora said.
Hayden gave an exaggerated sigh, because he needed to perk up here and be entertaining, not think about a rugby player who’d barely looked at him. Again—less pathetic yearning, more sparkle. “Not to me, either. One can only dream. Not about Marko,” he told Nyree, “so no worries. I’m not attracted to people to whom I’m not attractive, and probably vice versa, if I could work out the implications amidst the paint fumes. I should print that first part on a T-shirt, though. It’d savesomuch explaining. I’m saying it out loud, since we’re discussing the subject. Now hear this. I don’t want your man—that’s for you and Zora, Nyree—and if youarea man, I almost certainly don’t wantyou. I’m more selective than that, thank you very much.”
There. That should do it. He could be attracted. That didn’t mean he was putting himself out there to be rejected again.
“What’s wrong with cured meats?” Tom asked.
“Risk of listeria,” Nyree said. “Ask Marko for the full list of things I’m meant to eat and not eat, and he’ll tell you. He gets a bit boring about it, in fact. Folate, beta-carotene, Omega-3 fatty acids, protein grams, choline … I didn’t know choline existed, much less that it was a thing.”
“It’s in eggs,” Luke said.
“I know,” she said. “How doyouknow?”
He shrugged. “I have to know. I have to stay big, but fit. It’s my job.”
“Oh,” Nyree said. “Well, obviously. You do a good job at it, though. Staying big.”
“Yes,” Hayden said. “You do.” Which he shouldn’t have said, but—no. He was being insouciant. That was a French word. It meant, “Showing a casual lack of concern.” Which was perfect in all ways.
Kane said, “I’ll pass on pizza. I have a date.”
Hayden waited to hear Luke say he was leaving, too, but he didn’t, so he couldn’t feeltoouncomfortable, could he? Of course, he was here for Nyree, and she’d made it clear she wanted him, so that was good. And as there was nobody kinder than Zora, that was good, too. Coming out wasn’t easy, and she knew it.
