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6
I Didn’t Know It Was Coming
“Twelve jobs in one night,” I told Sean over a Turkish dinner in Newmarket.
The restaurant was one of our favourites. The movie theatre just across the carpark outside.
“That’s not bad for a Saturday,” he said. “Silverdale was busy, too.”
“What’s it like up there?” Silverdale was considered a rural station. Even if the shifts were still twelve hours long; four-on, four-off like the rest of us. Silverdale was a single crewed station, relying on volunteer officers to second crew the truck, so it was deemed rural for that alone if not for its rural location.
“You usually get some shut-eye at night,” he said, sipping his wine carefully. He was driving tonight. I was the one guzzling the Cabernet as if it was life giving blood.
I checked the sky outside the restaurant’s window, but there were no clouds. No stars, either. But no clouds.
I took another sip of my drink to settle my heart.
“It’s a lot more laid back than Pitt Street,” Sean said, calling my attention back to our dinner date.
“Is that why you take shifts up there?” I asked.
“I like the change of pace,” Sean said. “I like the variety.”
“I can understand that. But I’m Pitt Street, through and through.”
“It shows,” he said smiling. “Only the best work Pitt Street.”
I smiled back, feeling loved. Feeling like I fitted.
Round peg in a round hole.
* * *
“When are you coming home again?” Dad asked over the telephone the next day.
I was on days off and planned to spend the afternoon at the mall. I’d already been for a walk along Ponsonby Road, feeling like a real part of the city even if I didn’t have a tiny dog in my handbag and a gaggle of women eagerly greeting me at the cafe du jour.
Days off could be lonely and a trip home would have been nice. But Sean had tomorrow off and driving all the way down South for one night seemed like too much effort.
“Maybe next days off,” I said, as I stared into a shop window and felt my eyes bulge at the price tag on a small glass bowl.
“We miss you,” Dad said, sounding exhausted.
“Is everything all right?’ I asked.
“Oh, you know. Your mother works too hard.”
Ponsonby Road disappeared, the little dogs with pink bows in their long hair vanished. I could no longer hear the “Dahlings” and “Cin-cins” all around me.
“Has she gone off her meds?” I whispered into the cell phone.
“No, no. Nothing like that. She’s just busy. And we miss you.”
“I’ll drive home today,” I said, turning and starting the walk back towards my flat.
“Oh, that’d be good, Kylee. She’ll be so happy to see you. Sharon needs a break too, sometimes.”
“I’ll be home this afternoon, Dad,” I promised and hung up.
