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My throat thickens. ‘For everything.’
She tilts her head. ‘Go clean up those boxes before you make me cry.’
I smile as I slip the money into my pocket.
Maggie leaves around five, and I stay behind to clean, do the books, and wait for the delivery. The driver helps me carry everything inside, and I put it all away so Maggie won’t have to do it in the morning. After locking up, I head to the Reeds’ farm.
It’s strange going up the driveway and seeing the house. I hate that Hunter’s not a part of this scene anymore. I hate that I miss him.
‘Door’s open,’ Kevin calls from inside when I knock.
I enter, trying not to feel things, and make my way through the kitchen. ‘Here they are,’ I say, handing him the shoes. ‘Size eleven. Wide fit.’
He sets his beer down and opens the box. ‘That’s them.’
My gaze drifts to the dirty dishes covering the bench. The floor’s sticky beneath my feet, but I don’t look down. I don’t want to embarrass him. He has a lot to manage with Hunter gone.
‘Had a cleaner for a while there,’ he says, reading my mind, ‘but she stopped coming.’
I don’t need to ask why. Looking around, I say, ‘Why don’t I give you a hand with the dishes before I go? At least then you’ll have something to cook with.’ Though I suspect most of his meals are liquid nowadays judging by the weight loss.
‘You don’t have to do that,’ he says, turning red.
‘I know.’ I walk over to the drawers and find a clean tea towel, holding it out to him. ‘You can dry.’
He looks thoroughly uncomfortable as he takes it. I turn to the sink and start removing all the dirty dishes from it so I can fill it with water. He rises slowly and joins me. I wash, and he dries and puts away. Neither of us speaks.
Once all the dishes are clean, I walk over to the food cupboard and have a look at his dinner options. It’s slim pickings, but I find a tin of baked beans. I heat them on the stovetop.
‘I can do that,’ he tells me, still standing by the sink.
I glance in his direction. ‘But will you?’
His mouth turns up, and he drops his gaze. ‘Probably not.’
I put the hot beans into a clean bowl and place it on the table with a fork. ‘If you clean your plate, you get your beer back,’ I say with a smirk, then take the can with me to the sink. I fill the basin with fresh water and wash the saucepan.
‘My wife used to hate these beans,’ Kevin says quietly.
I turn and lean against the sink. ‘All tinned beans or just this brand?’
‘All. She used to make her own.’ He scrapes the sauce at the bottom of the bowl. ‘Good quality butter beans and molasses were her secret ingredients.’
The grief is still present, despite all the time that’s passed. ‘I’ll have to remember that.’
He stands up and takes his empty bowl to the sink, washing it himself. ‘Have you heard from him? Since he left?’ He doesn’t look at me.
‘No, I haven’t.’ I don’t know if that’ll make him feel better or worse.
He’s silent a moment. ‘Didn’t see it coming. I know that’s probably surprising for you to hear, but I thought we’d at least have a conversation before we got to that point. “Shape up or I’m outta here” kinda thing.’
Guilt twists in my stomach. It’s clear he doesn’t know everything that happened that day. ‘I saw him before he left.’
Kevin stills and looks at me, waiting for more.
‘We were in the creek.’ I swallow. ‘Mum found us, and there was a bit of a scene.’ I pause, finding Kevin as unreadable as his son. ‘I think he felt responsible for me getting into trouble.’ This is the first time I’ve said this aloud to anyone other than Tamsin. ‘I worry I’m the reason he left.’
He places the bowl in the dish rack. ‘I don’t remember anything about that afternoon. I woke up in my bed the next morning, where he put me.’ He wipes his hands on the tea towel. ‘There’s no doubt in my mind that if I’d been sober that day, he wouldn’t have left.’
