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“I’m not stripping in front of you,” I protest.
“All right, I’ll look the other way.” She turns around.
I glare at her, but she’s obviously not going to leave. Ah fuck, I don’t care. I take off my clothes, get gingerly into the bath, then slide into the hot water. Ooh shit, that’s hot. My feet tingle as they react to the heat. Slowly, I begin to thaw. Ahhh…
“Done?” she asks.
I slip lower, making sure I’m covered with bubbles. “Yeah.”
She picks up a towel, rolls it up, and puts it behind me. I rest my head on it, still watching her.
She bends down to look at me. “Better?”
I nod.
“I’m going to make some breakfast. Try to relax and warm yourself up. Come out when you’re ready.”
I lift my gaze to hers. Her big hazel eyes study me with gentle concern. “Thank you.”
She smiles, leans forward, and kisses my brow. Then she rises and picks up Leia in her seat. “Come on, Piri Paua. Let’s go and make Uncle James something to eat.” Still talking to her, she leaves the room, half-closing the door behind her.
I close my eyes.
The hot water is soothing and comforting. I inhale the pleasant smell of the lavender, and when I sigh, some of the tension leaves me for the first time.
Even though I’m still over the limit, the raging fury I felt last night has dissipated. Now I just feel tired and sad, but maybe not quite as hopeless as I did. I was wrong when I told myself I was completely alone. Of course I’m not. I have my friends—Henry, Tyson, Alex, Damon, Saxon, Kip, Juliette, Gaby, Missie, and lots of others. And I appear to have Aroha, which has surprised me no end considering how I treated her. Nobody’s ever looked after me like this, not since I was a kid, anyway. I kind of like it. Best not to think of my fantasy about her in the shower last night. That was just a by-product of the grief and alcohol—first port in a storm kind of thing. At least I didn’t act on it.
And, of course, I also have Leia. Once I feel better, I need to give some serious thought to what I’m going to do about her. There’s no shame in admitting you’d prefer someone else to care for her day-to-day. Aroha’s words rang true. It wouldn’t be fair to keep Leia out of guilt or duty. It would be better if she went to a family who would give her the love and attention she deserves. So many people can’t have children of their own and want to adopt. I could stay in touch, if they’ll let me, and make sure Leia’s all right financially, pay for her university fees, or whatever she wants to do, that kind of thing.
I open my eyes and imagine Maddie sitting on the side of the bath, looking at me accusingly. “I don’t know what else you want me to do,” I whisper. “What did you expect? I’ll never make father of the year. She deserves a lot better than me.”
She doesn’t reply, and I sigh.
The pills are starting to work, and I feel the familiar loosening of the band around my head, and a light-headedness not related to the hangover. At the same time, I become aware of the enticing smell of frying bacon filtering from the kitchen, and my stomach rumbles. Aroha’s right—I need some food inside me to soak up the alcohol and pills.
I give myself another couple of minutes, dip under the water to wet my hair, then get out of the bath and dry myself. She’s hung my damp track pants over the towel rail to dry, so I go into the bedroom and find another pair, along with a plain gray tee. I comb my hair, then walk through to the kitchen.
She’s in the process of transferring the crispy bacon to two rolls, along with a fried egg and a slice of cheese. “Well, you look a lot more human,” she says, adding a squirt of ketchup before pushing it across to me with a cup of coffee.
“You’re a goddess,” I mumble, pulling up a stool, then having a big bite of the roll. Oh my God, it’s amazing.
She chuckles, lifts Leia up onto the worktop in her seat, then sits across the breakfast bar from me and has a bite of her own roll. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Head’s thumping, but not as bad as it was.”
“Does alcohol trigger your migraines?”
“Sometimes. You probably won’t believe me, but I don’t drink very much.”
“You’re right. I don’t believe you.”
I give a short laugh and have a swig of coffee. It’s strong and piping hot, just how I like it. “Dad is teetotal,” I admit, “and he sees alcohol as a weakness. I always feel guilty when I drink.”
She glances at me, but she doesn’t say anything.
Leia chews on a teething ring, and Aroha talks to her while we eat our rolls. “All right, baby girl?” she asks. “Look at your gorgeous blue eyes. Your mama is going to be so proud of you when you grow up!”
She talks as if Maddie’s still here, sitting beside me, sipping coffee and listening to us. It’s not the first time she’s spoken matter-of-factly about things that other people seem to struggle with.
