I pulled away from Kevin, glad our disingenuous display of affection was over.
‘How are you?’ Loaded question.
‘Yeah, alright,’ I said. Non-committal response, minimal eye contact.
We walked around the back of the bus toward Kevin’s Toyota. Irritation festered in me at the sight of his stupid four-wheel-drive ute. Ever since we’d moved from Dawson, where he’d been a plain old mechanic, he’d become more and more countrified.
‘Hey, Sunny! Wait a sec.’ I turned and saw Leanne waving her arm from across the road. She checked for non-existent traffic, then hobbled across the baking bitumen, her white apron flapping in the hot, still air.
‘Hi, Leanne,’ I said.
‘Hello, sweetheart.’ She stepped forward and hugged me. ‘How are you holding up?’
‘I’m okay,’ I mumbled into her soft shoulder, again swallowing the persistent bulge that tried to ride up my throat.
She stood back and brushed back her crimped, sandy hair, which made me think of two-minute noodles. ‘It’s good to see you home.’ I watched her fingers go to the gold necklace hanging at her throat. As she played with the shiny crucifix, it caught the sun and reflected tiny shards of light. ‘How has school been?’
‘Same as ever. Just school … you know.’ The sun bore down on us and I lifted my hand to shade my eyes. The light was too much; my face ached with it. I longed to get into the air-conditioned cab of the vehicle – that humming, cool cocoon.
‘How are you, Leanne?’ said Kevin.
‘Oh, fine.’ She tucked loose hair behind an ear. ‘Actually, I just wanted to tell Sunny I could use some help in the shop again, on Friday nights, or Saturdays.’ She glanced at me. ‘You know, if you want to, Sunny.’
I nodded. ‘Okay. Thanks, that’d be good.’
‘Right then.’ Leanne started to back away. ‘I’ll give you a few days to settle in, and call when I need you.’
‘Okay.’ I hoped she would ring. Working in the shop would be a welcome distraction.
Her eyes lingered on Kevin for a moment and she looked as though she was going to say something else to him, but he was already ignoring her, focused on lifting my suitcase onto the tray of the ute.
‘Okay, bye then.’ She adjusted her noodles, gave me a quick smile and hurried back across the road.
With a heavy sigh, I swung myself up into the ute and slammed the creaky door. This was it now – me and Kevin.
Kevin jumped in and turned the key. The ute grumbled and shook to life with a diesel rumble. ‘How was the trip?’
‘Long … It was alright.’
‘How did your exams go?’
‘Fine. Haven’t got all my results yet.’ I glanced through the window as we pulled away, hoping the inquisition would be short.
‘I spoke to the counsellor this morning,’ he said.
‘I suppose he filled you in on the latest, then.’
It felt wrong, just the two of us together like this. Mum had always been around to dilute the weirdness between us. To me, we were strangers. I was the sixteen-year-old orphan, Sunny, and he was the forty-five-year-old widower, Kevin, and the glue that had stretched and strained to hold us together was gone. We had nothing in common and we both knew it. I watched the bus pull into a U-turn at the end of the street and wished I was on it.
I guess my grandmother meant well, leaving the farm to Mum in her will. Mum had always said she wanted to return to Kelly’s Crossing for good one day. She grew up as a farm girl, after all, and wanted to grow stuff and be a real farmer instead of just rotating various seasonal crops in our suburban backyard in Dawson. But I never thought it would actually happen. I mean, I was the tender age of fourteen. I had a life and friends and school in Dawson. You don’t just uproot someone like they’re a lettuce that’s gone to seed.
But two years ago, Grandma died and Mum became a landowner, just like that. So, here we were: residents of Kelly’s Crossing. Back then I’d dug my heels in and demanded to stay on at my school in Dawson as a boarder. Grandma had left a bit of money for me so Mum agreed. I knew I was clinging onto an old life, but it seemed better than going to Craigsville High and starting all over again. And, in a way, I wanted to punish Mum and Kevin for making me move. Trouble was, I missed Mum when I was away at school.
Kevin took a hand from the steering wheel to light a cigarette.
‘What are you doing?’ I said. ‘You gave that up.’
‘Yep. I did.’ Kevin nodded, exhaling a stream of blue smoke.
As I focused on the cigarette and its reappearance into our lives, I noticed it trembling just a tiny bit between his fingers. He moved it across to the other hand, like he was trying to hide the fact. Kevin had huge hands; the cigarette looked like a matchstick. I don’t know whether it was the physical work he’d done on the farm or what, but his fingers were thick beef sausages and his palms wide and flat like slabs of chuck steak. I could never imagine those meaty hands on my mother’s thin frame without grimacing.
‘You haven’t smoked for years. What would Mum think?’
That got him for a second. ‘It’s just temporary,’ he said, cracking the window and flicking the ash.
I examined his worn face. ‘Can I have one?’
Kevin turned to look at me. ‘Don’t be stupid.’ He shook his head. ‘What would your mum think?’
I half meant it, about the cigarette. I’d even bought a pack after Mum died
