Marshmallows for Breakfast (17 page)

I forced a laugh, shrugged, focused on my computer screen. “You know what I'm like, I'm always cold. How many times have I asked you to turn up the heating? I'd forgotten how chilly it got over here, especially after Australia.”

“Australia,” Gabrielle echoed. “You know, that's the first time you've mentioned it unbidden. I'd love to know about it.”

“Australia? I don't want to talk about Australia,” I replied. I opened my address book, flipped through its pages looking for a client who could do with a courtesy call—see if I could drum up a couple of assignments or arrange a lunch. I picked up the phone, started to punch out the digits. Gabrielle darted out from behind her desk and was beside my desk in two steps. She pressed down the button to cut the line, took the receiver from my hand and carefully replaced it in its cradle.

“I'm sorry for being glib,” she said, her persona completely altered. Now she was serious and concerned. This was probably the person those who went to her for counseling encountered. “Are you worried about going back to the house tonight and seeing him?”

“I told you, I'm being silly.”

“You're not. If it's upset you, then it's not silly,” she said gently. “Tell me what happened and why it upset you so much.”

I hesitated. It'd taken a lot to say anything in the first place and now I wasn't sure if I should continue. But then, I had to live with Kyle. I had to get some perspective on this and the only way to do that would be to talk it out.

Slowly, haltingly, I gave her a brief rundown. “It came from nowhere, truly,” I ended. “I've never given him even the slightest indication that I'm interested. Why did he do that?”

“Maybe because he likes you?”

“How can he? He doesn't even know me and it's not as if we've been on a few dates or we've flirted. I don't care what it says in the books or in the films, just because I'm free and he's free and we spend time together, doesn't mean we're going to hook up.”

“I'm sure he didn't mean any harm.”

“I know, but how can I be normal with him after this? I'll always be wondering if he's going to try it again.”

“Ah, sweetheart, we all do stupid things. I'm sure he's probably mortified about it. And you can tell if he's going to do it again by trusting yourself. If he's after something, you'll know. A little voice in your head, your intuition, will tell you not to trust him. We're trained to be polite, to be nice, and we all want people to like us, but if you find yourself having to quash even the slightest feeling of uneasiness about him then you'll know you have to avoid him. Forget politeness, forget all the stuff you were taught about people liking you, listen to yourself. What did you get with Kyle?”

“I didn't hang around long enough afterwards to find out much of anything.”

“Well, if you're going to carry on living that closely with him, you're going to have to talk to him to find out.”

We heard the chaos coming up the stairs to the office from the high street.

Footsteps, loud chatter, things being dropped and clattering on the wide staircase. With every step the noise got louder and we half expected the door to fly open and a troupe of circus performers to come tumbling in. When the door did open
my
group of circus performers came trouping in: Jaxon arrived first. He was dressed in dark grey trousers, his blue shirt was half tucked in, his striped dark
blue, yellow and white tie was askew around the open top button of his shirt, and as usual, one of his socks was pulled up to his knee and had the bottom of his trouser leg half tucked into it, the other sock lounged in rings around his ankle. He had a streak of green felt tip across his cheek and green paint staining his fingers. It always amazed me that such a quiet boy could get so messy in such a few hours.

Behind him was Summer. She was wearing her pleated dark grey school skirt, her blue shirt and the same blue, yellow and white striped tie as Jaxon, but hers was still in place. Overall, she was neater, but her hair, parted and tied in bunches (I'd taught Kyle how to do it properly), had strands escaping at random points all over her head. Her socks were also half and full mast. They'd both clearly had a hard day at the salt mines.

Behind them, a rucksack over one shoulder and another multicolored backpack in his arms along with two navy-blue blazers and two navy-blue jumpers, was Kyle. Perched on top of his pile was a trainer—presumably it had fallen out of the rucksack on his shoulder, since the backpack gaped open and the trainer's twin hung outside the bag by a caught shoelace.

He was pale, hesitant, his features drawn and his eyes darting anxiously around the room. It took a lot longer than it should have done for him to cross the threshold. He clearly thought it was a bad idea coming here.

I stood as soon as Jaxon had pushed open the door and came around my desk to see them.

“KENDIE!” Summer yelled, stepped around Jaxon, ran to me and threw her arms around my waist, slammed her head against my solar plexus, slightly winding me before she squeezed. Anyone would think she hadn't seen me in a year or two, anyone wouldn't think she'd seen me yesterday, just before bedtime. The office was thankfully empty, a slow
Tuesday afternoon. No temps or clients were in and Teri had gone home after her appointments.

“I missed you,” she informed me as I peeled her away from me and bent down to her height and allowed her to throw her arms around my neck and squeeze just as hard. Jaxon stood with his father until I looked up at him, a silent invitation to come on over and give me a hug, too. Dragging his feet, as he did when he walked, he came over and looped one arm around my neck and squeezed. Summer had already disentangled herself from me by the time Jaxon arrived. I took a deep breath and inhaled their scent. They smelled of school, of a day painting and running and reading and being outdoors. They smelled of Summer and Jaxon's lives.

Jaxon's hug was brief, just like his speech—rationed because it wasn't necessary to go overboard. I knew he liked me now, he didn't need to make a performance of it. As his arm slid away, I stood up and we both turned to find out what Summer was doing.

She was across the room, sitting in Gabrielle's chair, legs swinging, hands on the arms of the chair, holding court as she discussed the finer points of staplers and whether black ones were better than blue ones. Summer was explaining to Gabrielle that a black stapler would always work better than a blue one because anything black was always better. She spoke as though she couldn't quite believe that someone Gabrielle's age hadn't worked that out yet. Jaxon, as always drawn by whatever his superstar sister did, went over to join them. On his way he picked up the burgundy stapler that perched on the edge of my desk. That effectively left me with Kyle.

My heart had begun to beat in triple time, the blood rushing in my ears like the rapids of a white- water ride, as I turned to him. When I faced him I was doused with a memory
of the night before: his tongue pushing into my mouth, his hand on my face, his body too close to mine, the taste of coffee. I shuddered.

Kyle saw my shudder. He knew why I was shuddering. His anxiety, which he already wore in his eyes, on the grim set of his flatline mouth, in his stiff body, increased, began to radiate outwards towards me.

I glanced away, unable to look directly at him. “Um … Summer insisted we stop by. She found your watch …” He stuttered his way through the words like a schoolboy giving an unscripted talk on something he hadn't studied for. “I think you left it behind last night.”

I felt—rather than saw—Gabrielle look up at us. All three adults knew how that sounded—like I'd taken my watch off in his bedroom, not that I'd done the washing up after dinner.
Jeez, what is this man doing to me?

Kyle's eyes darted to Gabrielle. He met her eye and then paled in horror at how that sounded. His white pallor was swiftly followed by his face exploding with scarlet.

Seriously, what is this man doing to me?

Gabrielle returned her attentions to Summer and Jaxon. “Who wants some lollies?” Gabrielle asked, to cut the tension.

“Ice lollies?” Summer asked.

“No, I mean sweets,” Gabrielle replied.

“Then why didn't you say sweets?” Summer replied, indignant. She wasn't a fan of double-talk.

“Lollies is what we Australians call sweets.”

In unison Summer and Jaxon's eyes widened and fixed on Gabrielle. “You're from Australia?” Summer asked, her voice loaded with excitement but also the fear that Gabrielle might be having her on. “Like Kendie?”

“No, not like Kendie. Kendie's only a pretend Australian. I'm a real one. I was actually born there and grew up there.
How about I take you both out for some lollies—sweets— and explain all about it?”

“OK,” Jaxon said. “Garvo wants to know about it, too.” The three of us—Summer, Kyle and I—turned and stared at him. He
never
spoke to strangers. He looked back at us as though we were the ones who had done something out of the ordinary.

“That's OK, isn't it?” Gabrielle asked Kyle. “It's only two shops down. We'll go and come straight back.”

Kyle looked over Gabrielle, assessing if it was safe to let his children go off with her. He must have found her suitable because he replied, “Yeah, sure.” He made a move, jostling the items in his arms as though to get some cash.

“It's OK,” Gabrielle said, “this one's on me.” She picked up her fake Louis Vuitton wallet and bustled the children out the door.

“Not too many sweets,” I called after them. Gabrielle raised her hand in acknowledgement. “Seriously, Gabrielle, only one bag each. One normal-size bag.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Even if I hadn't told her she would have guessed something had happened between Kyle and me—the tension of it sat in gloops in the air around us. Thick, sticky splodges that dripped down around and onto us.

As soon as Gabrielle clicked the door shut behind them, I moved back, behind my desk. Protection. I needed a physical barrier between us, something that would make sure there was no misunderstanding. At the same instant Kyle took a step back, emphasizing that he felt the same.

“Kend… Miss Tam—” he began. “Look, I'm sorry. I got… I… I suppose I was … It's no excuse, obviously… I just… And it was … That's not to say …”

I stared at Kyle, wondering if he had any idea that he hadn't managed to finish a whole sentence yet. And the
words he had spoken, the sentences he had begun made no sense to anyone.

“You do understand, don't you?” he said almost breathlessly to end his soliloquy of unfinished sentences. His eyes were sparkling with the eagerness of wanting to be understood and believed and forgiven.

“To be honest, no, since you haven't actually said anything,” I said, my voice so sharp it could slice deep into diamond.

Kyle changed, subtly, but definitely. He stood a little straighter, his eyes became a little harder, his voice was cool and distant as he said, “I misread the situation. It could have happened to anyone. I thought we were both free, we could maybe, you know, we get on … We have the kids in common, relationships have been built on less.”

“Relationship?”
I replied, incredulous. “You didn't just want to … You wanted a
relationship?”

He shrugged, deciding suddenly that anything he said would be used against him so best he keep his peace.

“Kyle, you don't think you've got enough problems with your wife, you obviously want to add to it with a new relationship with someone you know absolutely nothing about?” I shook my head in disbelief.

“Look, Kendra,” his voice slid effortlessly from cool to hard. “Just because I did something incredibly stupid—and with every passing second I'm realizing exactly how stupid—doesn't mean you have the right to treat me like I'm an idiot.”

He had a point. Stupid behavior, stupid acts didn't make someone an idiot. Even perfectly rational, levelheaded individuals were capable of great acts of undeniable stupidity. Like me. Why had I befriended the Gadsboroughs? Summer. Jaxon. My belief that they needed me. My belief that in some way, taking care of them would make up for
what I did. Looking out for them would be my redemption, my first step on the path to forgiveness. I'd be making up for the family I helped to wreck. Summer and Jaxon and their well- being would be my salvation. Like I said: stupid.

“I'm sorry,” Kyle said softly, almost breathing out the words on a regretful sigh. He moved his shoulders up and down in a helpless shrug. “I'm sorry. It really won't happen again. I like having you around, you know? Not just for the kids. As a friend. I haven't had a female friend in … I can't remember when, certainly not since I got married. Colleagues, yes. Friends, not so much. That's why I got it so wrong. But I'd like us to be friends. Nothing more. Do you want to give it a go?”

What Gabrielle said came to mind. Did he make me uneasy? Even a little? I knew firsthand that looks could be deceptive, that what you saw wasn't necessarily what you got. But apart from sharing too much when we first met, he didn't scare me. He didn't raise even the slightest hackle, nor stir even a molecule of uneasiness. I hadn't wanted him to kiss me, but there was no little voice, no funny feeling that I shouldn't trust him.

“No funny business?” I asked, already knowing that I wasn't going to allow myself to be in the position where “funny business” was even a possibility. We'd be just friends, but I was going to avoid being alone with him for a long while.

“Not even a chuckle of one,” he replied, and smiled. It was that smile he'd presented to me on the day he returned from holiday, the one that had made me come in for breakfast. The smile that had, effectively, started all this.

“OK,” I said. “OK, we can be buddies.”

Kyle's smile deepened, and I saw Summer in the wrinkling of his eyes, Jaxon in the curve of his mouth. They must have inherited their face shape from their mother, but in
moments like this the imprint of their father was beautifully obvious.

“Are you coming home with us?” Summer said, entering the office seconds later. She hung onto the door handle, swinging the door back and forth. She held an unopened bag of jelly babies in her other hand. Jaxon and Gabrielle sidled in around her. They all wore guilty looks. Gabrielle wouldn't meet my eye. It hadn't been just one bag of sweets. There was pop involved, there was something that had stained Jaxon's tongue blue involved.