Page 24 of Not Your Shoe Size

He gave her another faux stern look. “You should have made everyone fit around you, Katie.”

Kate fought to keep her smile in place. It was all well and good for Mr. Peterson to say that, he didn’t have ADHD and a shitty family. And she kind of wished he’d stop calling her Katie. These days the only time she heard that name was in bed with Ty, where she liked the patronising, girly undertones.

Mr. Peterson smiled at her, clearly unaware of her irritation. “So, how long have you and your boy been together?”

Kate almost laughed. Tyler Henderson hadn’t been a boy since the ‘80s, but she couldn’t think of how to say that without sounding naive or like she was bragging or something. “Almost five years.”

Mr. Peterson let out a low whistle. “Impressive. How’s it all going?”

Kate glanced at the street. She still had a weird feeling she was being watched, but the passing Melbournites in the window weren’t paying her any attention. Maybe she was just thinking of Ty. He wouldn’t be happy if he knew about this little reunion. Then again, she hadn’tplannedto run into Mr. Peterson, and they were getting a coffee, not eating each other’s faces. Perhaps her twitchiness was just residue from the time she was terrified someone would uncover her deep lust for Deidre Peterson’s dad and send her to kid jail.

“Katie?” Mr. Peterson’s smile was patient. “Is everything okay with you and your boyfriend?”

She started. “Oh yeah,” she said quickly. “We live together, and we’ve been to South America and London, and he’s really into whiskey and CrossFit and…menswear…” She shut her mouth, embarrassed, then felt compelled to add, “We’re really happy.”

Mr. Peterson raised his eyebrows. “That’s great. Five years is a long time to be in a committed relationship.”

“Not as long as you and Mrs. Peterson.”

Mr. Peterson looked up at the ceiling. “Ahh, now’s probably as good a time as any to say Jenny and I have split up.”

Kate gaped at him. Mr. Peterson single? It made even less sense than him being here, in Brunswick, awaiting an éclair. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He gave a small smile. “We got divorced a year ago. She’s in Sydney now. Got herself a new boyfriend and everything.”

A hot ball swelled in Kate’s ribs. How often had she daydreamt that this would happen? Enough that she felt almost responsible. She looked at his hands. She hadn’t noticed he wasn’t wearing a ring, but he’d been bare-fingered a lot when she was younger. He took his ring off before he surfed.

“Surprised?” Mr. Peterson asked, his brown eyes twinkling.

“Completely,” Kate said, her brain hurtling through infinite space. God, Ty would really not be happy this reunion was happening.

Stop thinking about himand be nice to Mr. Peterson. You know, like he used to do for you?

She focused on her old van driver’s face.

“It’s not a big deal,” Mr. Peterson was saying. “We’d been on the rocks for a while, and now Deidre and Megyn are grown up, we thought it was time to call it a day.”

“Right,” she said, at a complete loss for what to add. “Right. Yeah. Right.”

The waitress returned with their coffees, Mr. Peterson’s éclair and Dede and Rapunzel’s takeaways in a tray.

“Thank you,” Kate said.

“Yeah, thanks.” Mr. Peterson flashed the young woman his girl-slaying smile. “What’s your name?”

“Corinne,” the waitress said, grinning back. She was French, dark-haired and pretty. “Don’t spoil me with compliments, I’m just doing my job.”

“But you do it so well!” Mr. Peterson said.

She tapped her cheek. “I do love my work.”

Kate glanced from one to the other like it was the grand final of the Australian Open. Mr. Peterson and the waitress flirted like grownups, executing verbal swashbuckling in a way she had never, ever replicated. Her flirting was limited to blushing and abrupt requests for sex. Possibly because of her ADHD, but she’d never been good at nuance. Maybe that was what she liked about daddy role-play with Ty—she could lean into her awkwardness, be even more naive and sexually incompetent than she was.

Someone behind the counter called for the Corinne, and she waved an impatient hand at them. Her blue eyes locked with Kate’s. “Your boyfriend is very charming.”

Kate would have given a lot to have spontaneously gone invisible. She tried to smile, but her lips felt like they’d been superglued together. The old fantasy again, too bright and hot and sweet, éclair left in the sun to curdle.

“Katie isn’t my girlfriend,” Mr. Peterson said breezily. “I’m too old for her.”

---