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“Is everything okay with your meals?” the waiter asked.
Was it harder to be confident around the waiter because he was attractive? No, that was a silly excuse. She simply wasn’ta confident person. Both Chris and the waiter stared at her, waiting for her answer. Her face was boiling, and she fisted her hands in an attempt to stop the trembling. It was like the words were desperate to come out of her mouth, and if she didn’t ask, then they would burn themselves on her tongue, reminding her for the rest of the day she was too gutless to say them. Her stomach churned. Why would Chris do this to her?
Lucie shook herself.
“Chocolate chips,” she blurted out. The waiter frowned. Lucie winced. “Can I have some chocolate chips, please? I want to make a smiley face on my pancake.”
“Sure,” the guy said. “And do you want a refill of juice too? Your face is really red. It’s like you’ve been climbing Everest or something.”
“Yeah,” she squeaked, fighting the urge to hide her face. “Juice too, please.”
The waiter walked away. Occasionally he raised his eyebrow at her over his shoulder. It was as if he was trying to spy on the two-headed monster. But Chris’s giddiness distracted her from the waiter.
Chris grinned and bounced on the vinyl bench. “You did it! You’re amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
The waiter had made it clear she was already bright red, but her face got even hotter.
“And every time you do something like that, it will get easier so that one day you won’t think twice or get embarrassed.” His joy was contagious.
Lucie’s face cooled, and she smiled back. Chris was right. She’d done it, and nothing awful had happened even though she’d made an arse of herself. The adrenaline rush eased, and a fusion of elation and pride replaced it. Requesting the chocolate chips was terrifying, but it beat the shame that typically stayedwith her throughout the day when she didn’t ask for something or when she didn’t speak up.
She sighed happily at Chris, who continued to fill his grinning gob with lumps of congealed chocolate and ice cream smothered pancake. She couldn’t keep up with the emotions running through her when he was around.
Lucie stared out of the window, taking in the view. Families continued to play and get on with their lives, but she’d faced one of her fears.
“I really did it,” she whispered.
Suddenly she caught a glimpse of her parents walking around the edge of the beach. Her mum’s head was down, and she was wringing her hands together. Meanwhile, her dad gesticulated wildly. Even from a distance, she could see he was gnashing his teeth about something.
“What is he moaning about now?” Lucie hadn’t realised she’d said it aloud until Chris gazed to where she was staring.
“I can’t tell if he’s having a go about something to your mum or at your mum. Is he angry a lot?”
“Not a lot, but it does happen. My mum manages him so that his temper is under control,” Lucie replied with a sigh. Her mum’s steps slowed, but her dad was focused on his rant. Usually, she and Emma spent six weeks with their mum’s parents, Grandpa Jim and Grandma Callie, during the school holidays. But this year, their grandparents had asked for a summer without Lucie and Emma visiting so that they could go on a dream cruise around the world. She and Emma were too old to stay with them every summer anyway. The anecdote-filled postcards sent from a series of beautiful beach locations left a sad smile on her mum’s face. “But he kicks off more these days.”
Was that true, or was she noticing it more? Being home throughout the school holidays had opened her eyes to the behaviour she wasn’t aware of due to having her head buried inbooks or attending after-school activities to help her university application. It wasn’t that her dad shouted a lot, but the house changed when he was home. Messes were tidied quicker, and there was less laughter and silliness. When he was around, there was an atmosphere that Lucie sensed as soon as she walked through the front door. Occasionally she heard her mum crying when she thought everyone was out. Why was she with her dad if she was this unhappy? Maybe that was what love was. Was that why Lucie didn’t argue with her dad about studying law? Because she loved him?
“Your mum looks sad.” Chris stared out the window.
With each step her parents took, the gap widened between them until her mum was a couple of metres behind her dad. Suddenly he turned and shouted. Maybe Lucie was reading it wrong, but based on how he was throwing his hands in the air rather than pointing them in her direction, he wasn’t angry with her. Even so, she was taking the brunt of his frustration. Maybe Emma had done something to upset him, or he’d seen Lucie and Chris at the adventure golf after all. Fear filled her belly. If that were true, she’d be in trouble when she got back to the lodge. Should she help her mum? But what if he yelled at Lucie too?
Lucie scrunched her serviette before tearing it into pieces. How could she leave her mum to her dad’s moods, especially if it was her fault? Tears brimmed in Lucie’s eyes. As a child, her mum tried to protect her and Emma from witnessing their dad being difficult, but now that she was nearly an adult, Lucie couldn’t hide or pretend anymore. Her mum hadn’t shown a genuine smile in a long time. Instead, she appeared to tolerate his digs and grumpiness as if she’d resigned herself to her future.
“Yeah, she does look sad. I thought growing up meant you made your own choices and had fun without limits, but it’s like you can see more of the truth that’s always been front of you.” Maybe Lucie could help her like Emma helped Lucie.She hesitated and pulled her bottom lip through the slight gap between her teeth. Lucie dropped her head so that she could hide her tears from Chris.
“Lucie, don’t feel bad. It happens to all of us at some point. I hate that I see the world differently the older I get. When I was younger, I was desperate to be an adult and live by myself. I believed it would all be midnight feasts and drinking as much cherryade as I wanted.”
“How young were you when you thought this?”
“Last year, when I filled in my university application,” he joked. “I am going to drink so much cherryade if I go to university.”
His grin was disarming, but it didn’t stop her from picking up on the word “if.”
Before she had the opportunity to ask him what he meant, he continued, “You can’t fix your parents, but you can live your life. So don’t let them decide who you’re going to be.
Lucie’s mum appeared despondent even at a distance. “I should go and see her,” Lucie announced although she stood gingerly. “I’ll be back in a second.”
Lucie darted out of the pancake house. What was she going to say anyway?
