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“Flip did good. Polly poured the charm like wet cement. Mia is such a cutie. She’s at the fairy dress stage. But I’m not going to get it.”
“Why not?”
“Other candidates, better...” he trailed off. Yeah, that wasn’t the fucking reason. If there were better candidates, he would never have made it to the play date round. “It’s too hard to hire me. It’s easier to hire a chick. I make Audrey nervous. I’m better off sticking to jobs with boys.”
“You know that’s discrimination.”
“Yeah, but what can I do about it? People don’t hire you to look after their kids if you scare them shitless.”
Charlie leant her head on his shoulder. “Oh honey, I’m sorry. I worry about the girls experiencing this kind of thing. It never occurred to me you would.”
“No biggie. I’ve got options.”
“You do. Doesn’t make it right though. You came into this world knowing how to look after people, and somehow being born my son didn’t grind it out of you.”
“Please don’t say you’re proud of me. I’m too big to squirm.”
She took hold of his head and leaned in so she could kiss his cheek. “You’re never too big to squirm.”
He squirmed. “Mum!” She kissed him again. “Charlie!”
She laughed and let him go. He’d gone through a phase after Flip was born where he’d resented her so much he’d stopped calling her Mum. He was seventeen and potty training was cramping his style. Now he only called her Mum for effect and he only called her Charlotte when she was really pissing him off.
“Are you seeing Sky tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to tell me why you’re not moving in with her?”
“No.”
Charlie flicked the twig into the garden bed. It was thick with weeds. If he could get the girls to help they could have it all cleaned up in an hour. “Come on, buddy. She’s hot and you’re into each other.”
He tapped down a squirm. “Are you desperate to reassign my room too?”
“No. You know I hated it when you lived with Polly those years. You can stay as long as you like. I’ll never kick you out.”
“Etta would.”
“Etta doesn’t yet pay rent like you do.”
“There is that.”
“You’re restless. I’m wondering about that.”
“I’m twenty-seven. I live with a bunch of hormonal women.”
She swatted his leg. “I worry you think you have to stay. You don’t. I’ve got this now. No more study. I’m healthy. My job is stable. Gin is doing fine. You don’t have to be a parent anymore. You’re allowed to go have your own life.”
During the three years he’d lived party central with Polly, Gin was hospitalised five times, Mum had pneumonia twice and Flip broke her arm. After he gave up the fighting cage and enrolled at uni, he’d moved home because he was more often there than not. But that was four years ago. He should want to sleep with Sky every night, all night. He should want to be more than a shelf in her bathroom cabinet and a drawer in her wardrobe. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He should want to tie their two lives in strong knots. And Sky was getting sick of his presence being transitory.
“It’s complicated, Charlotte.”
“That’s what you always say.”
“I’m allowed. It’s generational.” Only just, there was only sixteen years between them.
She leaned against him again. “All right. I’ll give it up.”
