The Family Tree (27 page)

The yard was even more overgrown now, the weeds most abundant over the vegetable patch. Knobbly dull-yellow lemons lay scattered on the ground near the tree, and Kate kicked a few away as she sat down at the old wrought-iron setting. Glancing around self-consciously, she slid a small, caramel-centred egg out of her pocket and put it down on
the table. The royal blue silver foil glittered incongruously against the dull grey-white of the table top.

‘Happy Easter,' Kate spoke in a low voice and then waited, staring down at the egg. There was no reply, and the silence that followed her words seemed somehow deeper than it had before she spoke. With one finger, she rolled the egg backwards and forwards over the rusted nipple section, while she let the quietness stretch until it moved from painful to almost boring. Then she picked up the egg and carefully wedged it into the empty umbrella hole at the centre of the table. ‘Happy Easter,' she said again, but this time she just mouthed the words so that the ensuing silence didn't seem quite so harsh.

It was nearly six o'clock by the time Kate pulled in the driveway and the first thing she noticed was the absence, once again, of Sam's silver ute. She stared at the gap in front of the garage, surprised by the depth of her disappointment, and then grabbed her overnight bag from the back seat and walked slowly up the stairs.

Shelley was curled up with Emma on the couch in front of the television. On the coffee table were the remains of their dinner, which looked like it might have been spaghetti bolognaise. Both glanced across as Kate entered, but Emma, after a toothy smile, went straight back to staring at the television.

Shelley frowned. ‘Mum! What're you doing here?'

Kate put her bag down by the doorway, feeling suddenly awkward. ‘Um, I just thought I'd . . . it
is
Good Friday, you know.'

‘Yeah, of course it is,' Shelley nodded, and then her eyes widened. ‘Oh no! Did you think we were having a family dinner?'

‘Well, we do
every
year, so I sort of assumed . . .'

Shelley looked down at her empty plate and then back at her mother, clearly dismayed. ‘I never thought . . . but I
did
ask you a week or so ago what you were doing, and you didn't answer. Shoot, I feel really bad now.'

‘Don't worry about it,' said Kate, making an effort to keep her tone light. ‘So where's everybody else?'

‘Up at Eildon. Hey, do you want some spag bog? I made heaps.'

Kate was staring at her daughter. ‘Eildon?
Again
?'

‘Yeah. So, do you want some?'

‘I, um . . . maybe later. Thanks.'

‘No problem.' Shelley unfolded her long legs and sat up. She undid Emma's bib before lowering her to the floor, where Emma immediately crawled over to the television and sat up again, transfixed by the vivid colours. Shelley picked up the remote control and reduced the volume.

Kate went over to her usual armchair and sat down. ‘So . . . why did they go up to Eildon again?'

‘Dunno,' Shelley shrugged, and then glanced at her mother's overnight bag curiously. ‘Are you staying over?'

‘Well, I
was
going to. I thought with Easter and all. Do you know when they're going to be back?'

‘Not sure. Maybe tomorrow. I know Dad said we'd have a barbie on Sunday.'

‘Oh. Nice.'

Kate looked across at the television, where a cartoon cat was now being disembowelled by a hyperactive mouse. Emma stared raptly, her mouth open. ‘Do you think she should be watching this?' Kate's voice was harsher than she intended so she smiled to smooth it down. ‘Next thing you know, she'll be decapitating you in your sleep. And you'll only –'

‘Have myself to blame,' finished Shelley, looking at her daughter pensively. As if sensing her audience, Emma flopped forward and crawled closer to the television, where she hoisted herself up awkwardly. She batted a hand against the colourful characters for a moment and then, mouth open, leant forward and started sucking the screen, a trickle of drool dribbling down the glass. In front of her, now partially blurred by smeared saliva, the mouse continued his macabre occupation. Kate grimaced and then looked across at Shelley with her eyebrows raised.

‘Okay, okay.' Shelley picked up the remote and flicked the channel over. As Emma sat back down grumbling, she sighed and crossed her legs, jiggling one foot in the air rhythmically. ‘It's just that it keeps her so
quiet
.'

‘I'm not surprised.' Kate made a mental note to buy some child-appropriate DVDs, preferably ones that did not include evisceration amongst their learning tools.

‘I'm glad you came round,' said Shelley suddenly. ‘I was going to drop in on you this weekend anyway.'

‘What for?' asked Kate suspiciously.

‘God!
Nothing
.' Shelley looked offended. ‘Can't I drop in without ulterior motives?'

‘I don't know. Can you?'

‘Very funny. Hey, did you hear about Melissa?'

Kate nodded, smiling. ‘Yes, great news. Your aunt is thrilled.'

‘So am I. Now I won't be the only one in this generation with offspring.'

Kate looked at her curiously. ‘Does that bother you?'

‘Nah, not really.' Shelley stared at her daughter, who had found a piece of spaghetti under the coffee table and was now occupied with trying to separate it from the carpet pile. ‘Well, only when people think I'm a screw-up.'

‘What! Who thinks you're a screw-up?' asked Kate, instantly furious.

‘Calm down, Mum,' Shelley smiled and finally stopped jiggling her foot as she reached down and took the spaghetti from Emma, flicking it onto a plate. ‘Nobody thinks that in
particular
. It's just sometimes when people look at Em, and then me, I can tell they're thinking ‘Oh, you silly girl.' You know.'

‘Yes, I suppose.'

Shelley kept her eyes on Emma. ‘Do
you
think I'm a screw-up?'

‘Certainly not,' Kate didn't hesitate. Although she was enormously surprised by the question, she sensed it was important her answer be honest and unsentimental. ‘I don't deny I was shocked at the time, and I
did
wish you'd waited until you were in a
really
stable relationship, or more financially secure. But that's life. And I think you're an excellent mother and I also think you're going to land on your feet. I have never once thought of you as a screw-up.'

‘Good,' said Shelley, still without looking at her mother.

‘Besides, how can anyone have any regrets when they see little Miss Buggalugs here?' asked Kate rhetorically as she leant forward and hoisted her grand-daughter up onto her lap. ‘Hey, Em? Who's a beautiful girl then?'

Emma wriggled herself into comfort and then gazed up at her grandmother with an adoring expression. Kate, however, noticed the baby's little finger being crooked expectantly. She took hold of it, just in case.

Shelley stacked Emma's plastic plate on top of her own and then used the discarded bib to clean spaghetti sauce from the coffee table. She glanced over at her mother with a thoughtful expression. ‘So what've you got planned for tonight then?'

‘That depends. I mean, do you want me to stay?' asked Kate, knowing that she was fishing for affirmation. Emma struggled to free her hand and then splayed her fingers and stared at them, as if searching for marks.

‘Absolutely. Except . . .'

‘Except what?'

‘Well, I
was
going out. Just over to some friends. And Daniel's mum
was
going to have Em, but now she's not well. So-
o
. . .'

‘You'd like me to babysit.'

‘
Would
you?'

‘So much for not having ulterior motives!'

Shelley jumped up with the plates and then turned to Kate with a grin. ‘I'm deeply hurt by that. I'd be pleased you were here regardless. It's just that it's
exhausting
being such an excellent mother, and it's sort of fate that you turned up just when you did. Like I
know
you're probably disappointed that we weren't having a family dinner, but this way you get the house to yourself and that
has
to be nice. You must admit it's all sort of serendipitous, hey?'

Kate smiled wryly. ‘Yes, serendipitous indeed.'

S
am and the boys didn't arrive home until late Sunday afternoon, by which time Kate was nearly out of her mind with boredom. She had never realised just how much time she spent around her home cleaning and, now that was no longer an option, she was left with so much time on her hands that she actually felt weighed down. Kate was well aware of the irony of the situation but that didn't help matters. Admittedly it had been very pleasant spending so much time with Shelley, who arrived home from an outing on Saturday with potato chips and chocolate and borrowed movies. They spent the evening curled up in the
lounge room, first laughing at Katherine Heigl in
27 Dresses
, and then crying with Sally Fields in
Steel Magnolias
. But by Sunday, the bonding was wearing thin, especially as most of it was spent with Emma while Shelley ‘just dashed' somewhere or other, her version of being ‘back in a minute' having no correlation whatsoever with real time.

Kate let the curtains fall as Sam's ute turned into the driveway, and then quickly ran her fingers through her hair and tucked one side behind her ear as she curled into her armchair with a book in hand. Her stomach clenched as she heard them take the stairs noisily and she marvelled at the realisation that she was nervous. Then, before she had time to analyse this reaction, the front door was swinging open.

‘Mum! Long time no see.' Caleb dropped an army-style sausage bag at his feet. ‘What're you doing here?'

‘Well, it
is
my home, and it
is
Easter.'

Jacob materialised in the doorway behind his brother. ‘Did'ja bring Easter eggs?'

‘Your mother's welcome, with or without eggs.' Sam sent a smile in her direction and then continued down the passageway, laden with sleeping bags.

‘Yeah, it's not like we're a fertility clinic,' Caleb grinned, and then frowned. ‘Hang on, that sounded better in my head.'

‘Distur
bing
,' commented Shelley, arriving in the lounge room from the other direction, with Emma in her arms. ‘Now, are we still having a barbie? I'm starving!'

‘As are we,' Sam came back, now empty-handed. ‘So here's the plan. Caleb, you start the barbecue while I have a quick shower. Meat's in the fridge. Jake, you get the rest of the stuff from the car and just dump it in the laundry for now. Okay?'

Jacob frowned. ‘Why can't I –'

‘Just do it,' said Sam tiredly as he turned and headed towards the main bedroom. Kate got up and followed him, pushing the door open even as it closed in her face.

‘Sorry, sweetheart!' Sam looked at her with surprise. ‘I didn't realise you were behind me.'

Kate smiled as she sat down on the bed. ‘I'm
always
behind you.'

‘My very own stalker. How romantic.'

‘Consider yourself lucky, some people have to share.'

‘Hmm, I wouldn't mind being shared.' Sam stepped neatly out of his clothes and stood in front of Kate, naked. ‘Sometimes I think it's a bit unfair that all this . . .' he gave a little jiggle that made Kate laugh, ‘. . . is reserved for just one female.'

‘Put it away before you hurt someone.'

Sam leered. ‘Pain could be your friend.'

Kate crossed her legs automatically. ‘Besides, you couldn't handle more than one female.'

‘Now
that's
probably true.' Sam's smile faded. ‘Not even sure I can handle the one I've got.'

‘Practice makes perfect,' replied Kate, trying to ease the conversation again. ‘Listen, how come you didn't ring me to make plans? For Easter, I mean.'

Sam looked surprised. ‘I just assumed you'd be here. And you are.'

‘What about Good Friday then? Our fish dinner?'

‘Fish?' Sam grimaced. ‘I hate bloody fish, you know that. Hey, while I'm having a shower, do you want to put a salad together? There's stuff in the fridge.'

‘But what about Eildon? What's with all the trips there?'

Sam shrugged. ‘Just having a break.'

Kate looked at him searchingly. ‘But we haven't been up there for ages, then suddenly you go up two weekends in a row?'

‘Good Lord, woman. I didn't realise this was going to be an interrogation. If you have to know, we went up last weekend on the spur of the moment and had such a good time that we decided to go again. Why all the questions?'

Kate shrugged lightly. ‘Just checking you're not having an affair, that's all.'

‘You've guessed my secret.' Sam put a hand on his chest melodramatically. ‘I've been having an affair with a buxom country wench called Bertha and, just to add some spice, I've been taking the boys along each week as an audience.'