“For Christ’s sake,” he snapped, throwing open the door. “I’m not allowed to give a shit now?”
He had this innate sense of how to make me feel like crap. And once again, it worked. It wasn’t his fault – I knew that. I knew how much he wanted to fix this, to take away the ache in my soul, but there were some things that were outside his capabilities. He wasn’t Batman, even though he used to act like it when we were kids. This grief, this pain, this almost unbearable yearning was mine, and it was one of the few things I couldn’t really share with him.
“I’ve got two jobs in town this morning,” I said, by way of an apology. “One this afternoon, on the peninsula. Should be done by three, then I’m heading over to Henry’s.”
“See – that wasn’t so hard was it?” He flashed me a lop-sided smile as he climbed out of the truck, slamming the door after him.
That was one of the things I loved about him. He didn’t hold a grudge. Truthfully, he was one of the most laid-back human beings I’d ever met. If we didn’t look so much alike, I’d wonder if one of us was adopted. Unfortunately, we both looked a lot like Dad, so there was no mistaking our lineage. Olive skin with light blue eyes that seemed out of kilter with our skin tone. Short, light brown hair. Both of us over six feet tall. He was two years older, but sometimes it felt like the other way around. He was relaxed, loved to play the fool, was fiercely protective – just like Dad. I was more like Mum. Serious, sensible, far too deep for my own good, especially lately.
I leant on the back of the seat and watched through the back window as he grabbed his surfboard off the deck of the truck and came back alongside the passenger window.
“Flick me a text when you leave Henry’s. Jas has some baby shower shit going on and I need to make myself scarce. If it’s not the baby shower, it’s the damn party lately. It’s doing my freakin’ head in, hearing about it all day, every day. I just wanted something quiet, y’know? Beer, food, music.”
I could sympathise. He was a man of simple tastes, always had been. Right now, though, I’d have given anything to be organising a birthday party like this for Em. Being around the two of them was sometimes bittersweet. They were about to become a proper family, and I was as jealous as hell.
“Meet you at the pub?” Vinnie asked.
“Yeah, okay.”
He tapped the truck’s roof and started down the driveway, surfboard under his arm. Then he paused, turned around and came back.
“Sorry if I came on a bit strong before,” he said, leaning in the driver’s window.
He didn’t hold grudges, and he was always quick with an apology if he’d overstepped the mark. Another difference between us. I was jealous of him for a lot of reasons.
“I miss her too, y’know. We all do.”
“I know.”
I knew a lot of things. I knew that I didn’t have the monopoly on heartache. I knew that this time of year was tough. I knew that sometime over the next two days, I was probably gonna go into the spare bedroom wardrobe, get out the box full of photos I’d hidden in there and cry like a baby.
BLOODY HELL, IT WAS HOT. I shoved my cap up and ran the back of my hand over my brow. Thank God this was my last job of the day. I’d had just about enough of this heat. It was just after three and the sun was at its most brutal.
I trudged with the lawnmower up the driveway towards my truck. I couldn’t wait to get these boots off. My feet felt like they were melting. I wasn’t cut out for boots. The first thing I did when I finished work was get rid of them. I was dreading having to dress up for the party tomorrow night. Anything that required shoes was a major commitment. Jas had no idea how much I was sacrificing for this thing.
Cutting lawns and maintaining gardens for the holiday homes in the area was a thriving industry, and it saved me from certain death sitting behind a desk somewhere, being slowly strangled by a pair of leather loafers. The freedom worked in my favour, especially if the surf was good. Thankfully, today was Thursday, the day I knocked off early and went to visit Henry.
I loaded the lawnmower onto the trailer, strapped it down and headed for the dump. The heat was sticky, and the high following this morning’s surf was fading fast. The cool morning air felt like a distant memory. It was the February from hell, hotter than usual and twice as humid.
I pulled into the dump, raked the grass clippings off the trailer and threw the tarp into the back of my truck. Finally heading for home, Vinnie’s voice was back in my head again. It’d been like that all morning.