Page 38 of Summer, in Between
‘Honestly, it’s fine, I’ll just come back.’
‘You’re doing us all a huge favour, Paul.I can’t listen to Cat’s booklist drama for another second.Cat, run upstairs and get a jacket.Grab your booklist too.Make sure they have everything you need.We’re not doing this again.Stand your ground if they mess it up.Mick, give them some cash.You kids can get some dinner in the city.’
‘You sure about this?’I ask.There’s going to be two hours there, two hours back and one amazing, rejection-filled kiss between us.
He finally looks me in the eye.
‘Come on Cat.It’ll be fun.’Paul smiles, shrugging.
‘You’re a lifesaver, mate,’ says Dad.‘Cat, move it.They say they’ll wait, but let’s see what happens if you don’t make it there by five.’
17
I’M putting on my seatbeltwhen Paul puts his hand on mine.
‘Listen, Cat.My house, my family, they’re not like yours.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Nothing.I’ll be as quick as I can.’
In town, we pull up in front of a weatherboard house.There’s a white picket fence with a gate underneath a rose-covered archway.Paul leads me up a path flanked by roses in bloom.I reach to sniff one and find it’s unscented.Paul opens the front door and calls out.
‘Mum, Dad?’
We move towards the sound of a television at the end of a hallway with doors on either side.I glimpse a perfectly made bed drowning in throw cushions and porcelain dolls.Paul takes my arm, and his palm is hot and sweaty through my sleeve.
‘Look who’s decided to grace us with his presence, love,’ says a deep voice as we enter a living room.Paul’s dad, I assume, is in a pale yellow and beige tartan recliner, feet extended, in front of a TV sitting within a huge entertainment unit.Every shelf is filled with hundreds of ceramic figurines.There are cartoon characters next to southern belles, queens and princesses next to horses.
‘Mum, Dad, I’d like you to meet someone,’ says Paul.‘This is Cat.’
The recliner lurches forward so fast I’m surprised it doesn’t tip, and a huge hand is advancing towards me.I accept it and my hand disappears.He’s massive; taller even than Paul, and twice as wide.His frame fills the room, but his smile is genuine.He rocks on his feet, his hands on his hips.
‘So, you’re the reason this idiot has been smiling so much, then, are you?Nice to meet you.Cat, is it?That short for Catherine?’
‘Nice to meet you too, Mr Lightwood.’
