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“It’s my pleasure. I’ve been looking forward to it. Haven’t been to a wedding for ages.”
Alice comes back out and stands before us. I can tell she’s nervous. “You two getting acquainted?”
“You should relax before you strain something,” I tell her.
She gives me a wry look. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
Chuckling, I get to my feet, take the hand she offers me, and follow her through the dining room. “That’s where I sit when I call you,” she says, showing me the outdoor table and chairs. The deck overlooks the garden, which consists of a paved pathway that winds around pretty flower beds and trees, and a patch of lawn at the bottom on which I can see a couple of rabbits. I can picture Alice pushing her mother along the pathway, and this is also where the picture of her was taken that she used on Tinder.
She takes me through the kitchen, which is small but neat, past the laundry room, and then through to the bedrooms. “Mum’s room,” she says, “my room, Charlie’s room, and this is my studio.” She opens the door and takes me inside. I recognize it from the Tinder photo, her desk with the computer against one wall, the microphone set in a stand, and the shelves of fantasy and sci-fi books. The first editions I bought her have pride of place in the center of her shelf.
“I’ll be able to picture you here now,” I tell her, but there’s no time to say anything more because she presses me up against the wall, slides a hand into my hair, and pulls my head down to kiss me.
It takes me two seconds to get over my surprise, and then I wrap my arms around her and kiss her back. Her soft lips part beneath mine, allowing me to sweep my tongue into her mouth, and she gives a quiet moan as I pour out all the weeks of heartfelt longing into a long, deep, slow kiss.
When I lift my head, she looks up at me dreamily. “I’ll be able to think about this every time I do a podcast in here,” she murmurs.
I cup her face and kiss her eyebrows, her eyelids, her nose, and back to her mouth. “I’m happy to provide as many memories as I can.”
She sighs, slides her arms around my waist, and rests her cheek on my shoulder. “Mum likes you. I can tell. I’m not surprised. What’s not to like?”
I kiss her forehead. “I’m glad. It’s always important that the people you love get on. Next time you’re in Wellington, I’ll have to take you to meet my folks.”
“It’s going to be a slightly different experience from this one. Do they wear tiaras when they’re at home?”
“Dad has a scepter. Mum wears the crown.” I grin. “They’re very normal. They weren’t born rich.”
“Catie said last time she went for lunch there, they had caviar, lobster, and oysters.”
“So what? They like seafood.”
“Seafood to most people in our position means prawn cocktail that’s more sauce than prawn.”
“Yeah, I can see how it might be a tad intimidating. But they’re lovely people, and they’re both going to adore you. Now come on. We should get back to your mum or she’ll wonder where we’ve got to.”
In the living room, I watch while pretending not to as Alice helps her mum into the wheelchair, then takes her over to the dining table. Clearly they’ve got everything off to a fine art. There’s plenty of space to maneuver the wheelchair, and Alice parks it away from the table after she lifts Penny into the chair at the head where there’s the most room.
“Can I help bring something in?” I ask, following her into the kitchen.
“Sure.” She hands me the salad, and then she carries in the lasagna she’s made, placing it in the center. I bring in the bottle of white wine and the glasses, open it, and pour us all a small glass before taking my seat across from Alice. She dishes the lasagna up, giving her mother a small serving of the pasta with just a spoonful of the salad beside it. She’s told me that fatigue is a major issue for her mother, and it’s clear by the way Penny cuts her food and lifts the cutlery to her mouth that it’s taking an effort just to eat.
But she chats brightly enough and eats everything on her plate, and after we’ve eaten, we continue to chat for another hour in the living room, while the sun sinks toward the horizon, flooding the garden with a warm orange light.
At about eight thirty, Penny says, “Okay, I think it’s time I went to bed.”
“Are you sure?” Alice asks, surprised, so I’m guessing it’s earlier than she usually retires.
“All our chat has worn me out,” Penny says, although she glances at me and smiles. She wants to give us some time alone, I think, which is sweet of her.
“I’ll do the dishes,” I tell Alice.
“You don’t have to do that,” she scolds.
“I don’t mind.” I get up, go over to Penny, pick up her hand, and kiss her fingers. “It’s been so nice to meet you at last. I hope you sleep well.”
“It’s been lovely to meet you, too.”
I leave Alice to take her mother to bed, clear the table, and run the hot water into the sink. She has a dishwasher, and I rinse the plates and glasses and put them in while the lasagna dish soaks, then start cleaning it, looking out at the garden from time to time and watching the rabbits.
