Page 45 of Catch a Kiwi
He laughed, something I didn’t see a lot. “Don’t think I need group therapy. I’m not wounded, just bad at being married.”
“So comparing your achievements got old,” I guessed.
“Something like that. But you’re right, this house was her idea.”
“I wanted to think the design was you,” I said. “The materials. The taste. I’m going to be sadly disappointed if it’s not true.”
“The materials were me. The size was her. She’d bring the team here to train. Two men and two women, staying for a week at a time, talking about their macros and their VO2 max, drinking green sludge and sucking almond butter out of packets, watching docos about mountain climbing and free-diving. Always a clatter of weights hitting the stack in the gym, and a garage full of kayaks and racing bikes and dripping wetsuits. I admired their discipline, but they weren’t much chop at general conversation.”
“Can you make money at that?” I asked. “Or were you the bankroll?” And when he looked at me, half affronted and halfamused, “Hey. It’s an obvious question, and you know by now that I was a gold-digger myself.”
“No,” he said, “I know that you weren’t.” I tried not to let that affect me. “And, yeh, you can get sponsorships and that. Eventually. Not enough to pay for this house, but enough to live on, if you’re good enough.”
“So what happened?” I asked. “Did she have an affair with one of her teammates, or what?” He looked so outraged, I had to laugh. “Sorry. I’m sure you’re very satisfying in bed.”
He grinned. Pretty reluctantly, but he did. “How’m I meant to answer that? She went to Chile to train for the big race down there, then on to Spain. Won a world championship with her team, was finally getting those sponsorships, and decided not to come back. Didn’t seem much point in being married anymore. It wasn’t like we were spending time together. I was building up a couple of ventures at the time myself, so I was probably dull as well, and possibly too sure I was right and that my way was the only way. That was mentioned. On the other hand, ‘When you do something, you should burn yourself up completely, like a good bonfire, leaving no trace of yourself.’ Shunryu Suzuki, as we’re quoting. We did that, but could be that you can’t have two bonfires at once. Which left me with this house and a pizza oven.”
“Delilah would ask about your sex life here, I’m sure,” I said. “As she has no filter, and then there are those bonfires.”
“We’re going there, are we?”
“Speaking theoretically,” I said, and thought,What are you saying? Back off! Back off!Wait, though. We were having a frank discussion, that was all. “In my experience, athletes are intensely physical, but not always intensely … mutual. Of course, I only know the male version. They like lots of sex with lots of people, but it’s more about quick gratification and possibly fantasy fulfilment than … than partner fulfillment. Maybe female athletes are different, though.”
“Ah.” The dark was falling around us now, the sky purpling, but I could still see the gleam in his eyes. “Hence the lack of sexual feelings. Despite the way you look, and where that’s got you.”
“What, I look like I can’t wait? Seriously? I’m wearing jeans and a T-shirt and trainers! And who told you about my lack of sexual feelings?”
He laughed. “Nah. I meant, being so beautiful. And Delilah told me. Though you’ve also said I wasn’t too bad, or something like that. Made me go all warm and fuzzy inside.”
“All the women around those guys are beautiful,” I said. “Beautiful isn’t anything special, it’s an entry requirement.”
The sound of a car in the drive, which you couldn’t mistake, not up here in the quiet. I said, “Are you expecting somebody?”
“No,” he said, and stood up.
Car doors closing. Footsteps. Three people coming around the corner: a woman and two men.
“Surprise!” the woman trilled before they’d covered half the distance. “Here’s your dad!”
19
SEEKING TO UNDERSTAND
Roman
I stood up and controlled my rage. Barely. “Mum.” That was all I could get out. Beside me, Summer stood, too, and was silent.
“My son.” That was the older man.He was tall, and he’d probably once been broad. Now, he was thin and a little stooped, with something hangdog about him.“It’s good to meet you at last.” He stepped too close and put a hand on my shoulder, and I smelled the stale cigarette smoke on him, stiffened, and thought,What?Then realized he was trying to do a hongi, a Maori greeting. And that I didn’t want to touch my face to his.
I took a step back, and his hand fell. I said, “Not sure you’ve known about me long enough for anything to be ‘at last,’” then looked at my mum. “And I think this decision is mine to make.”
“He’s yourfather,”she said.“You know I only want what’s best for you. Why are you being so rude? What will Daniel think?”
“I thought I made it clear,” I said, “that I don’t much carewhat he thinks. I’ve done fine without him for almost forty years. I can go another forty.”
“This is why we had to come,” Mum said. “You’re so stubborn, who knows how long it would take to bring you round otherwise. You always think you have all the answers. Don’t you think, for once, thatImay know better?”
“No,” I said. “Sorry.” I wasn’t sorry.
