Page 62 of Catch a Kiwi
“Oh. Sure.” I hadn’t thought about that, and my heart sank. How many men would be excited about their wivesinviting random lost souls to move in? Random lost souls with backstory and baggage? She’d also be looking me up, seeing pictures of me wearing too much hair product and some very short skirts and possibly drinking champagne, not looking one bit like a responsible, serious person.
A few long minutes, and she came back. “All good. Up to four months is fine. Two hundred a week, including the electric and wifi and all. Not that we need it so much, but it feels better when you pay your way.”
“Yes,” I said fervently. “It does. That’d be—it’d be great. We’ll stay out of your way, I promise. And keep it clean, too.”
“Cleaning sounds good, but you don’t have to be that invisible. You’ll want to do your washing in the yurt, for one thing.”
Theyurt?“Oh, no,” I said. “I wouldn’t?—”
“Two of my sisters in there,” Daisy said. “One in university and the other in high school. Company for your cousin, maybe. Another one lives with us in the house, but nobody’s in the caravan at the moment, so no worries, we have space. And no men other than Gray, which may be a plus for you just now.”
“Is it a … commune?” I asked. “Or something?”
Daisy said, “That’d be funny, if you knew. No. It’s my family. How soon are we talking about?”
“Uh …” I said.
“Oh,” she said. “Tonight.”
“Not that soon,” I said. “I’m doing some waitressing here, and I need to work today and tomorrow, but … Monday?” Delilah would be a little less fragile by then, I hoped, at least able to ride in the back seat on her stomach. “This came up suddenly.”
“Blewup suddenly, you mean,” she said. “No worries. We’ll have it ready for you.”
“Another thing,” I said, and hesitated again.
“You reallyarein a spot, aren’t you?” she said. “Tell me.”
“You’re good friends with Matiu. Dr. Te Mana. I saw that yesterday at the hospital. And Roman—you remember how he was?—"
“Arrogant?” she asked. “With a temper? That’s the bloke I remember.”
“Oh. He’s normally nicer than that. Like I said—selling me the ute and all. He was just a little—surprised—at the time.”
“Because you rolled your campervan down his hillside,” Daisy said.
“Yes. That. But now it turns out he’s Matiu’s cousin. Surprise,” I added weakly.
“He’s Maori, though,” Daisy said. “Nobody has cousins like Maori.”
“Yes, but he’s anewcousin,” I said. “Previously unknown. There could be some bad feelings.”
“Oh?”
“His dad is Matiu’s uncle, and his half-brother is Hemi Te Mana. The designer. Things could get awkward.”
“I’ve heard of him, of course,” Daisy said. “Are you saying Hemi Te Mana is going to be coming round the caravan? No worries. We could use the style tips. My sisters and I have had heaps of catching up to do on that front.”
“Oh, no. I’m sure he won’t. I don’t think there’s going to be any … any real relationship. I just wanted to tell you, in case there’s any drama with Matiu.”
“There’s never any drama with Matiu,” Daisy said. “Matiu is a drama-free zone. That’s why we’re friends. Because I don’t need him, but I like him. My happy place. And maybe yours, too.”
26
A BIG NO TO THE RESIN HEART
Roman
Summer went to work that afternoon without telling me more than goodbye, then straight to bed when she got home. She was rigorously polite the next day, too, and I got pretty sick of it.
