Page 50 of Catch a Kiwi
He sat beside me, gave me one of those stares that made my toes curl, and said, “We’re going to have to talk about this idea of yours.”
“What idea is that?” I took a bite of French toast. Pure custard in the middle, and with the crispy-edged sugared bananas? Oh, yeah.
“The weight idea,” Roman said. “That you’re, what? Not gorgeous anymore? Sorry, that doesn’t fly.”
“I’m still not doing what you want, though,” I pointed out.
“Well,” he said, “there’s that.” And drank his coffee.
“So,” I said. “Your new family.”
He grimaced, but didn’t say anything like, “This topic is forbidden,” so I went on. “I guess I’d say—that must have been some journey you’ve taken, getting where you have from where you probably were.”
“I could say the same about you,” he said.
“True,” I said. “We’re probably not wildly different in some ways. Matiu seemed all right, though.”
“Not bad,” he answered, in another brilliant display of linguistic genius.
Well, this was going nowhere. I was planning to move on to the topic of … well, of moving on. Instead, I found myself saying, “Thanks for speaking up for me last night, too, though I was doing all right for myself. With Daniel, I mean.”
“I wasn’t meant to do that? Sorry, I’m going to do that every time. You said it. I’m possessive.” He ate some more bacon.
“That wasn’t possessive,” I said. “It was protective. Not that I needed it, but still.”
He said, “Call it what you like. I’m doing it.”
I thought,Back off,and then,Why? You wished you could be as blunt as he is. Well, here’s your chance, because he needs to hear it.That’s why I said, “You’re being a little difficult this morning, aren’t you? I could give you more space with that, but I won’t. If you wanted to be alone, you could have gone for a walk on the beach, or, of course, left. Instead, you made me breakfast, so I’m going to plow right ahead. You said you wanted my impressions. I’m not sure that’s true, but Delilah could come out here any minute and I’m probably never going to see you again after this weekend, so I’ll give them to you anyway. Your possible father has spent his life casually wrecking other people’s lives, I’ll bet anything, and still somehow thinks he’s the victim every time. He’s the kind of guy that should have died about twenty years ago, given his choices, but will probably live to a hundred, because those guys always do. Your mum isn’t as bad, but she wants to take credit for way too much of what you’ve done and probably thinks that whatever you give her—and I’ll bet it’s a lot—isn’t nearly as much as she’s entitled to. Your possible cousin would rather not be in the same room with either of them,but he went to all that trouble because he loves his grandfather, and I’m guessing the grandfather is worth it. I liked Matiu, and weirdly, I keep liking you, too, when I’m not thinking you’re incredibly overbearing. At least you’re honest. Authentic. That’s my new word, and you’re it.”
“Which means,” he said, “that I’m rude, but you’re getting used to it.”
I raised my cappuccino glass to him. “You said it. You’ll keep doing what you think of as your duty, too, because you’re a … I’m not sure what the word is.”
“Oh,” Roman said, “I have faith in you.” He was smiling, finally. “Don’t stop now.”
“OK, you’re a … a fair person, I guess. And a responsible one who’s honest all the way through, and honorable, too, from what I’ve seen, and you didn’t get it from either one of them. Honor isn’t a fashionable word anymore. I wonder why not. Seems important.”
“Mana,” Roman said. “Not saying I have it. Saying that’s the word, and it never went out of fashion in New Zealand.”
“I thought you weren’t Maori,” I said.
“You don’t have to be Maori to know about mana,” he answered.
I thought about that and went on, even though my heart was beating hard, like I was stepping way out of line. This was why I’d tried to make things even between us, though, right? So I could be equal. So I could say what I thought. “And however arrogant you may seem, you don’t quite believe you’re any of those things I said. Why is that? My mom may not have been able to give me everything she’d have wanted to, but she told me I was brilliant, not just beautiful. She told me when I was helpful and hardworking, and when I was kind. That those were the important things, and that she saw me doing them. She thought I hung the moon. At least I had that, and that’s not nothing. Who was telling you that? Andstill, you rose above. You’re a responsibility junkie, like me. You can’t stand to give less than your best or to be less than you can, and that comes from you. From down deep. Which means that if youareDaniel’s son, you’ll probably go meet the grandfather and the rest of them, but you’ll hate every minute of it, especially the idea that they’d think you’re after something for yourself, because you can’t stand to need anyone. There you go. My impressions.”
He was staring at me. Offended or amused, I couldn’t tell. “How do I feel about you and Delilah, then?” he asked, and speared another crispy/creamy bite of French toast along with a tender morsel of salty, meaty, lean bacon.
“You think she’s funny,” I said. “I think she’s funny, too. You aren’t annoyed by her, because you don’t actually annoy that easily. You think I’m a pain in your hind end, what with my stubborn independence and all, when I should let you handle things for me and quit fighting about it, but you also think I’m good-looking, and you can’t decide which part you care about more. Of course, Iamcleaning your house and haven’t stolen anything so far, so I’m useful. There you go. How’d I do?”
That wasn’t just a smile. It was an outright grin, and it made me feel pretty powerful, if you want to know the truth. “Fairly good summation,” he said. And my ‘hind end?’”
“My mom was a redneck, and I’m not all that classy myself. Sometimes it slips out.”
“Mm.” He ate some more French toast. “Do me a favor. Stay the week. Maybe I don’t trust my mum not to come back. I thought Delilah could turf her out, but maybe I should give you more credit for toughness. Anyway, you still need your stitches out.”
“Friday,” I said. “Same day your cleaned rugs are ready.”
“Which means you won’t actually be gone after three days,” he pointed out.
