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I stare at her, shocked at her vehemence.
She presses her fingers to her mouth. Then, to my surprise, she bursts into tears.
“Hey. It’s okay.” She’s talked to me several times since we met on the plane, and she even danced with me, so I was sure she’d gotten over any anger she felt. I have a feeling there’s something else going on here. “Come and sit down.”
I take her hand, relieved when she doesn’t snatch it away, and lead her over to the sofa. She drops onto it and covers her face with her hands. I lower down beside her, concerned that she’s so upset.
“It’s okay,” I murmur. Normally, I wouldn’t touch a girl who was upset like this, but I know Aroha, and I’m concerned. I rest a hand on her back and rub gently, ready to remove it if she stiffens. But she doesn’t. To my surprise, she turns and rests her forehead on my shoulder.
Touched and pleased, I bring my arms up around her, then think maybe that’s not the best idea. But it’s just the way I am—I’m a hugger. Luckily, she melts against me, so I give her a big cuddle as she cries.
“Sorry,” she manages to get out in between sobs.
“It’s all right. There’s nobody here.” I hold her tightly, leaning back against the sofa, and she curls up against me. “Just let it all out.”
She cries for a while, and I stroke her back and murmur not to worry and that everything will be all right.
Eventually, her sobs quieten down, and she sniffles and snuffles. I take my pocket square out and hand it to her, and she wipes under her eyes and blows her nose.
“I’m so sorry,” she says again when she can eventually talk. “I didn’t mean what I said. I don’t hate you.”
“I’m glad. I hope we can stay friends.”
“Me too.”
Relieved, I kiss the top of her head. “Now, what’s really the matter?”
All the air leaves her lungs in a rush. “I just had some bad news.”
“Oh no. What’s happened?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She sighs and doesn’t say anything.
“Come on,” I prompt, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “A problem halved and all that.”
“You can’t help, James.”
“You don’t know that. Come on. Tell me.”
She sighs again. “On the trivia night, I found out that my dad had lost his job. He’s a process worker at South Island Meats.”
“Ah, jeez, I heard they were laying off staff.”
“He’s been there for fifteen years. He’s fifty-two and unskilled. He’s going to find it hard to get another job.”
“Yeah, it’s not easy at that age. What does your mum do?”
“She has to look after my brother most of the time. He’s twelve. He has autism with high support needs.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t aware of that.
“He receives funding to go to a specialist school twice a week, but he doesn’t like it there, and he gets upset when he has to go. Mum often keeps him at home anyway, even though I tell her she needs time without him. But he’s happier there, playing with his robots. She does clean in the evenings sometimes.”
“Do you have other siblings?”
