Page 106 of Catch a Kiwi
“No,” he said.
“No?” I blinked at him. I’d felt so good, earlier. So pampered and almost … loved, just because a man had spent money on me, had said nice things to me.
Had made love to me and held me afterward like I was everything he wanted. Maybe even something he needed.
Stop it. Sex isn’t love.I took a deep breath and said, “OK. OK. I’ll get us an Uber. Delilah, however you feel about meright now, you must see that you need to go help Erica. That you can’t just leave her there alone.”
“I get that.” Her arms were folded, and she was scowling. I did not have the energy for this. “I’m not the one saying I won’t go. And you have a lot of gall, Roman, telling me I’m privileged. How many houses do you have again? How many people do what you say? I’mpoor.”
Roman didn’t even answer her. He told me, “Take the keys and drive her.”
“But the duvet,” I said. “The mess. And I need to remember to iron your shirt. If I’m doing laundry anyway …”
“Bugger the duvet. And bugger the mess.” He stopped, breathed, and said, “I’ll wash the duvet. I’ll clean the floors. And I don’t care about my shirt. I told you that already. I liked that you wore it, and it was worth whatever inconvenience you imagine I’ll be facing. Here’s a thought. If I need another shirt sooner than I can get this one cleaned, I’ll buy one. I’ll be in Wellington. I have a wallet, and they have shops. It’s the capital.”
“You can’t want to clean the floors,” I said. “None of this was your fault.”
“And none of it was yours,” he said. Facing off to me in his most formidable fashion, but I hadn’t come this far to be pushed around.
“It’s my responsibility,” I said. “Delilah is my cousin.”
“Delilah,” he said, “is eighteen. If it were my choice, I’d have her wipe up the floors while I texted the property manager that somebody’d been sick and they needed to bring over another duvet before the next guests arrive, and I’d pay the damages and be done with it. But as that’s unacceptable to you, I’m doing this. Meanwhile, that girl is alone in hospital, drugged and sick and scared to death. Put aside your stupid pride, get out of my house, and go see to her.”
“You’re yelling.” It was a last-ditch effort.
“I’m not yelling,” he said. “I’m speaking forcefully, because I’m being forceful. It’s my job. You need to care for everybody in the world, and I need to get the things done that need to be done. Get out. Now. Go.”
I went. I honestly couldn’t think of what else to do.
Roman
I wiped things off floors that I didn’t want to wipe off floors. I chucked wet sheets into the dryer and chucked the duvet cover and towels into the washer. I cleaned another bathroom, the one the boys had used, and was glad I hadn’t given them that lift. I opened all the windows in the house, and when I didn’t find a mop, I grabbed tea towels and some dish soap and washed the offending floors on hands and knees. I had heaps of internal monologue to keep me company.
For example: Why was I doing this, besides general stubbornness? Why didn’t I just text that property manager? Because I’d seen Summer’s martyr act one too many times, and I was tired of it. Or maybe I couldn’t stand to be with a woman who thought that little of me. I wondered what Hemi Te Mana would think if he could see me now, and that one nearly made me laugh, even as I fumed. Hemi would’ve rung the property manager, I was sure. But then, Hemi was American now, and I was a Kiwi to my bones.
Right. Summer was too much work. That was what I needed to be thinking about. Too guarded, too prickly—even as she was so maddeningly sweet—too contradictory, and too confrontational, and I didn’t need anything like that. If I had to get involved with a woman, she was going to be unencumbered. Coolly independent. Beautiful but …
You get the gist.
I didn’t have the chance to get through my entire list of objections, because she came back.
She didn’t use the phone app to get in. She rang the doorbell, which was why I opened the door with a scowl on my face and had already started to say, “Piss off.” I’d assumed it was the two blokes, still hanging about looking for that lift instead of using their perfectly good feet.
“Oh.” She actually took a step backward before she firmed her shoulders, swallowed visibly, and said, “I realize you’re—” with her voice shaking all over the place.
Delilah was behind her. She said, “Erica’s parents came, that’s why I’m back. Lots of drama. Many tears. They’re so grateful, et cetera. I’m going back to bed, and I’m not getting up until at least noon. If you want to yell at me, Roman, you can do it then.” And went.
I barely noticed, and I didn’t say anything. I just pulled Summer in and held her. She stiffened for a minute, and then she started to cry. Not prettily, and not in any way you could mistake. Her hands were curled against my chest like birds, her face was buried in my neck, her shoulders were heaving, and she was sobbing like her heart would break. The approaching day was turning the blackness to gray, and a bloke walking a dog on a lead looked up at us, startled, but I didn’t care. I was stepping backward, pulling her with me into the house, letting the door slam shut, and wrapping her up tight.
“Don’t cry,” I said, like every man who holds a crying woman. Like that will work.
“S-s-sorry,” she gulped, and tried to pull away. “Sorry. I just— Oh, man. I’m such a mess. I’m so not ready for this. I dragged you into this, and I— I?—”
“Shhh.” Another non-helpful thing to say, probably. I pulled her closer and asked, “What is it? Delilah? The girl? What?”
She shook her head—still against my chest—and said, her voice muffled, “N-no. She’s going to be … OK. But her mum was so … so … soworried,and her dad was so angry and so protective, and they werethere,holding her, which is great, but I … I just—” She pulled back for real, wiped her knuckles over her streaming face, and tried to steady her voice. “I don’t know why I’m c-crying. It’s so s-stupid. Just … I can’t do this. I can’t be normal anymore. It doesn’t … it doesn’twork.I’ll think it’s working, that I can have a … a normal life again, and then I’m … I’m annoying you, when I’m trying so hardnotto annoy you, when none of this was your fault or your problem, and Delilah was so awful to that cop, so I’m probably not being a good influence, and she thinks I’m—that I …” She shoved herself back, staggered a couple of steps in her heels, hit the wall, put a hand against it, took a deep breath, and said, “I’m going to wash my face. I’m not making sense. I know I’m not. Then I’ll come help you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m sorry this ruined your night. You tried so hard to give me a beautiful night, and you did. I can’t keep taking things from you. I have to be on my own. I wasn’t ready. IknewI wasn’t ready, and I did it anyway! I’m—” Her hand had been beating against the wall, and now it fell. “I need to wash my face. And then I’ll … I’ll stop acting like a lunatic and figure this out. I’ll clean up. I’ll … I’ll be right back.” And took off.
Summer
