Fake (28 page)

Mum folds her hands in her lap and looks at me over her mug of cappuccino. ‘I'm sorry.'

‘I thought that was my line.' It's all I seem to be saying lately.

‘I've been pretty wrapped up in Colin.' She has a sip of her drink and milk bubbles burst on her lip. ‘But that will change from now on.'

The last thing I wanted was to ruin my mum's chance at happiness. ‘Don't stop seeing Colin. I know he makes you happy.'

‘You make me happy too. I never said anything about breaking up, but I'm working on getting the balance right. I've invited him for dinner next week. It's about time he met the most important person in my life.'

‘I look forward to it.'

‘You've always been so responsible. A miniature grown-up from the day we left Marty. I took it for granted that you'd be okay if I focused on me for a little while.'

‘And I went and messed up big time.'

Her hand catches mine and squeezes. ‘You made a mistake …' She smiles. ‘Or two. I came down hard on you because I was so shocked.'

‘I swear nothing happened with Sebastian.'

She looks me in the eye and I notice there are more wrinkles around the edges of hers than there used to be. ‘I believe you.'

Relief washes over me. Those three little words take the next sip of my milkshake from ordinary to incredible. Some of the sickness that's been lurking in the pit of my stomach since we fought is gone.

She waits for me to put the tall glass down again. ‘Are you ready to talk about your father?'

‘Marty.'

Her brow arches.

‘He doesn't deserve the title,' I explain.

She nods but gives me the chance to gather my thoughts without pressing me for more details.

‘I don't want you to think I agreed to meet him because you weren't enough for me. I only wanted to ask him why
we
weren't enough for him.'

‘And?' There's still a hint of uncertainty in her voice. How could she not know that he'll never be anything important in my life? She's the one who's been there for me through everything.

‘And all he did was show me pictures of his new family. A perfect pair of children with happy, carefree grins. You should have seen it. He was proud, like he'd done something good and decent with his life. He didn't ask a single thing about me.'

Pain flickers in her eyes and I don't know whether it's on my behalf or at the description of his kids. Maybe a bit of both. She still tries to reassure me. ‘His loss.'

‘I've told myself that, because I know you love me and you're way cooler than him.'

Her lips twitch. ‘Thanks, I think.'

My drink runs out with a last slurp of cool mint. ‘The thing is, he said he was sorry but what he did needs more than sorry and I don't know if I can ever forgive him.' Saying it aloud lifts another weight from my chest. I thought meeting Marty would put the bad memories and hard feelings into the past, but if anything it's worse now. I'm more confused about him than ever.

Leaning back in her seat, she sighs. ‘You don't have to forgive him. Have you heard from him since?'

This hurts the most. ‘No, but I did storm out without looking back.'

‘You showed him, huh?'

‘Not really.' I play with my straw. I'm not sorry I met him, if only for the regret I would have felt if I hadn't. But it wasn't the resolution I was hoping for.

She pushes her cup into the middle of the table and stands. ‘Stieglitz's?' she asks.

I consider. It's one of our favourite shops. With a mixture of antiques and homemade crafts, it's run by the most gorgeous and strong-minded octogenarian I've ever met. You don't mess with Una May but she'll keep you for a chat about her three granddaughters for as long as you let her.

And we haven't been there for a while. I climb to my feet. ‘Let's go.'

We walk to Mum's car side by side.

Is she thinking about Marty's new family? Does she regret she didn't stay? Her face is calm but her eyes are hidden by her dark sunglasses. Hearing that he's happy now has to hurt.

I stop at the car door and wait for her to lift her glasses onto her head. She frowns. ‘Is there more?'

I don't know how to say it. I'm afraid she'll think I'm betraying our family. ‘I can't stop thinking about his kids. How incredible it is that I have a brother and sister who wouldn't recognise me if I walked past them on the street.' I blurt the words in a jumble. I'll be amazed if she understands a word of it.

She does, and more I didn't say. Her eyes soften and her arm goes around my shoulders in a brief hug. ‘You could try to change that. I always thought you'd make a great big sister.'

‘But I would have to see Marty again.' Part of me intended my big walkout to be the last he saw of me.

Her hand cups my cheek. ‘If you have to you will. And with class.'

‘You reckon?'

‘I do. Think about it.' Her eyes search my face. ‘I know you hate decisions but you're the only one who can make this one.'

She can read me better than I know myself. It's like she's given me permission. As we drive toward our favourite shop I let myself imagine meeting the children in Marty's picture.

Hi, I'm Kath. I'm your big sister
.

It's scary. And exciting.

The car park is empty when we arrive. Inside, where the organised chaos used to be hidden beneath a fine layer of dust and decorated with cobwebs, there are rows and rows of taped up cardboard boxes. I inhale the scent of disinfectant and think I can actually see my reflection in the sparkling floor.

Una May bustles out from the back room and her wrinkled face splits into a wide smile flashing the twin gold teeth in the front of her mouth. ‘If it ain't two of my favourite girls. Welcome.'

‘Are you moving?' Mum asks the obvious question.

Impossibly, Una May's grin widens further. ‘To live with my oldest granddaughter. Have I told you about her? She's a gem.'

And like that Mum is cornered.

I edge back toward a shelf marked for clearance.

The shelves are six high and packed. Every item from the brand new hockey stick to the mantel clock that looks like it hasn't worked for generations has a bright green sticker with a dollar value. Most have been crossed out and rewritten at half the original amount.

Una May is in a hurry to clear out this life and start her new one.

I pick up a leather-bound book filled with scrawl and labelled as a nineteenth century diary. Usually a find like this at the bargain price of five dollars would have me poring over the pages but today, although I flick through the pages, I don't decipher a word. I can't stop thinking about what Sebastian said. Am I more interested in other people's love stories than my own?

Does he consider us a love story?

I don't know. I've never liked a boy so much. I think I love him.

That has to be worth fighting for. I totally get why Mum left Marty. A man like that was better off screwing up someone else's life, but Sebastian is different.

Maybe the most different person I've ever known.

Who is right now about as pissed at me as anyone ever has been. But to give up on him isn't in any of the love stories I've ever imagined. I made a mistake, or two as Mum would say, but if he likes me he might be able to forgive.

Yes, the baby thing is terrifying, but I won't know if I can handle dating a boy who has that kind of responsibility if I let him fade out of my life.

But the other option. To decide …

Fear freezes me in the middle of the shop, with Mum only feet away wearing a glazed expression thanks to Una May.

Wanting him is one thing, but going to him and putting my heart on the line is a decision and a confrontation beyond anything I've ever done. My feet are welded to the impossibly clean floor. I've sweated small damp spots on the old diary, and I've stared, unblinking, for so long my eyes are gritty.

I have to make a decision.

I blink.

My hand goes to the small lump in my jeans pocket. The coin he gave me back when I thought life couldn't get any better.

Choose Sebastian
.

I remember how I laughed. I remember looking into his green, smiling eyes and saying, ‘As if the answer to every decision I have to make is that simple.'

He couldn't have known, but this time, it is.

And my gaze catches on a knitted purple tiger. It's not old or unique, but its eyes are big and its smile is friendly. I think it might be just right for a little girl to cuddle. And maybe Poppy can start her own story with it.

Suddenly I can breathe again.

I step to the shelf. With a steady hand, I grab the toy and stride over to where Mum is still listening to the cheery shop owner.

‘Excuse me,' I interrupt with a smile.

Una May blinks. No one usually stops her mid-anecdote.

I smile again, and put the diary and the tiger on the counter. ‘I'll take these two and then we'll need to get going.' Una May opens and closes her mouth but I'm already turning to Mum. ‘I have to get back to school before lunch finishes.'

She glances at her watch. ‘We'll need to hurry.' And then for my ears only. ‘Thanks.'

Una May rings up my purchases and we're on the road in minutes.

I text Chay.

While there are no phones allowed in the halls, she has an uncanny knack of being able to answer.

My phone buzzes a minute later when she should be in art.

I can almost hear her excited clapping from here.

When I switch off my phone Mum breaks the silence. ‘You're going to talk to him?'

‘Who?' My question is pure delaying tactic. Mum and I have talked about most things, but I'm not sure she's ready to hear that I faked a guy, and that the boy I'm trying to win back has a daughter.

‘Sebastian,' she says dryly.

I should have known she'd work it out. I hesitate. Avoiding the truth put me in a heap of trouble and I don't know whether Sebastian will want to listen to the stuff I've sorted out. And maybe Mum doesn't actually need to know every detail.

However, I do want to be honest, even when it's hard. Maybe especially when it's hard. I toy with my phone cover.

‘He has a daughter.' I blurt it out into the small car space as sunbeams make the dust motes dance to some terrible eighties love ballad.

And she says nothing.

I sneak a sideways glance. She's staring at the road, her lips pursed.

‘He made a mistake,' I add when I can't stand it a second longer.

‘A big one.'

I can't read anything from her tone. ‘It freaked me out.'

‘I can imagine.'

‘But he's taking responsibility and looking after her and everything. It's not like I want to marry him. And he probably hates me anyway.'

Mum lifts her brows in question.

‘I might have played a prank on his sister.' I take a deep breath. ‘Well, more than a prank. The night I broke your tree I was trying to make up for it.'

‘The pretty girl with the good hair?'

‘Who stole my date to the end-of-term party, which doesn't matter because I went with Sebastian anyway, and he bought me a notebook that was my favourite colour and because I couldn't decide it had about five colours.' That has to mean he likes me, doesn't it? ‘Oh, Mum. He's cute and sweet and his sneakers are always different. And the reason he was at our place when you came home the other night was because he knew how worried I was about Marty and he wanted to be there for me.'

She takes in my gushing description. ‘He sounds … nice. Maybe I could meet him sometime?'

I pretty much throw my arms around her as she's driving and she laughs and pushes me back to my side of the car.

‘That doesn't mean I approve.'

Yet.

I slump in my seat, recognising the fluttering behind my ribs as nerves. ‘He might not want to talk to me.'

‘Maybe.' She flashes me a smile. ‘But if Sebastian is everything you say, he will.'

I hope, hope,
hope
she's right.

CHAPTER

21

By the time Mum drops me at the school gates I've changed my mind about talking to Sebastian a hundred times, but the coin in my pocket and the faint hope I'm not alone in my feelings keeps me from begging her to turn the car around.

Thankfully lunch isn't over.

‘It will be okay,' she promises. Her smile shows the strength I've always believed in. And despite what I read in her blog about her struggles and her pain, I still do.

Maybe more so.

But for now it's something she's sharing anonymously with the world and not with me.

I clamp down on the questions that aren't my place to ask. Everything she's hidden has been for my sake. I hope that one day she thinks I'm strong enough to handle her fears like she cares for mine, but until then I'll wait.

Mum gives me a kiss for luck.

I'm too sick with nerves to muster a response.

On my way toward where I said I'd meet Chay I pass Lana eating with a group of hangers-on. I'm still amazed she survived the hallway debacle without any damage to her reputation.

She looks up and her eyes narrow. Hate radiates from them like heat from one of those hot springs Mum wanted to visit for her fortieth. I shrink away, expecting her hate to burst into flames and cook me where I stand, but she lets me pass unscathed. For now we appear to be at a stalemate. I hope she's embarrassed by what she shared with me when she thought I was Aaron and frightened by what I could tell the school about her. The glimpse of vulnerability I saw in the bathroom is hard to remember when confronted with her immaculate poise.