A Roast on Sunday (13 page)

“I know mum, l
ike I don’t feel bad enough already?”

“
Go after her and apologise”

“She’ll be long gone
by now. I’ll sit down and have a talk with her later.”

“Are you going to finally tell her the truth?
Stop all this craziness for once and for all?”

“I don’t know mum, ok? I don’t know what I’m going to say.”

“Ahem,” Jack cleared his throat.

Maggie
jumped, she had completely forgotten he was there. “Shit,” she swore, “how much of that did you hear?”

“Well,” he was
confused by the question, “all of it, obviously. I mean, I am sitting right here and I’m not deaf.”

“Well don
’t start asking questions. It really
is
none of your business.”

He held up his hands defensively. “I wasn’t going to ask anything.”

“Good.”

“Except maybe just
one
question –”

Maggie glared at him.
“What?”

“Does your ex-husband really stop by every Saturday night to leave dead meat on
your porch? Cause if he does, that’s kind of creepy.”

“Don’t be
so stupid, of course he doesn’t.”

“So why does
Willow think he does?”

“That’s two questions, and it’s complicated.”

“It’s not complicated, it’s stupid,” said Ray.

“Gee thanks for the support dad.”

“Honey, I support you all the way, you know that. But not when it comes to this. You should have told that girl the truth a long time ago.”

“And the truth is what exactly?” asked Jack, looking around the table.

“None of your business,” said Maggie.

“
Yep, that’s what I thought you’d say. You’re making it all sound very mysterious. I mean, is there a body buried in the backyard that I should know I about?”

“
Of course not. Don’t say stupid things like that.”

“Well if you don’t want me to use my imagination then why not tell me the truth? Who delivers the meat? Where is Willow’s father?”

Maggie stood up angrily.

“Lift it, don’t scrape it.”

“Outside,” she ordered Jack, “
now
.”

“You’d better do what she says,” Ray said, “she’s got her bossy voice on.”

Maggie stalked out the back door letting the screen slam shut behind her. The fern on the windowsill curled up its fronds defensively as she passed. Ray grimaced. “Yep, you’re in trouble alright. I’d hate to be in your shoes.”

Jack whistled out his breath. “Any
tips you can give me that might help me survive this?”

“And take away all the fun? Nope, you’re on your own,” Ray grinned.

“Don’t be so mean,” Dot smacked him lightly on the back of the head. She turned to Jack and regarded him, one hand on her hip. She looked him up and down and then nodded. “I think you’ll be fine. You’ve already proved you can hold your own with her in an argument, and that’s half the battle right there. Just don’t back down. She needs someone like you in her life; she just doesn’t know it yet. Maggie can be a little stubborn you see, thinks she can do everything on her own. You didn’t hear any of that from me though.”

“You’d better go,” Ray
butted in. “The longer you leave her out there on her own the angrier she’ll get.”

Jack gulped and stood up.

“Lift it, don’t scrape it.”

“Wish me luck,” he said.

“It’s been nice knowing you,” replied Ray cheerfully.

Outside Jack couldn’t see Mag
gie at first, but he could hear muttered cursing so he followed the sound around the back of the house. She was bent over one of the raised vegetable beds, plucking out weeds furiously and throwing them on the ground to stomp on.

“You’re busy,” said Jack, turning to retreat, “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“
Get back here.”

Jack winced, and turned slowly back towards her, plastering a
broad smile across his face.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“What’s up?
What’s up?
Are you kidding me?”

“Look, you’re clearly upset. M
aybe we should have this talk later.”

“It’s
you
that I’m upset at, and we are having this talk right now.”

“Right.
Ok.”

She walked towards him jabbing one finger
in his direction. “If you think for one minute that what happened last night entitles you to any kind of say in my life, you’re mistaken.”

“Oh no, I would never –”

The finger did an about turn and pointed at her. “
My
business is
my
business, and my daughter and I are none of
your
business, you got that?”

“Of course, I was just –”

“And that goes for my parents as well. Don’t use them to try and find out things about me.”

“I haven’t,” he protested, “I
wouldn’t –”

“
What happened last night was -,” she flicked a glance towards the house to make sure her parents weren’t listening and lowered her voice, “-
sex,
and just sex. Nothing else, you got me? Don’t go thinking it was an invitation to start asking questions about things that just don’t concern you.”

He stayed silent this time,
simply stood still and watched her.

“
Body buried in the backyard?
What the hell is wrong with you? Imagine if Willow had heard you say that? Joking or not, it was in poor taste, but then you seem to say whatever the hell pleases you and who cares if it hurts someone else right?”

He frowned.

“I don’t know why you feel this need to hunt out my past,” she continued, “but I want you to stop.”

Maggie
finally ran out of steam and stopped talking, waiting for him to say something. He didn’t.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” she asked.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure if you were finished. Am I allowed to speak now?”

“
Briefly, yes.”

“Right, my turn,” he said. His tone was low and even, and it startled her because she hadn’t heard
him speak so seriously before. “I don’t know why you keep secrets the way you do or what it is that makes you think your experiences are any more traumatic than anyone else’s, but here’s the thing; your husband left you. It’s as simple as that. No big drama, no scandal, no mystery. He just left you, as men leave women all the time and vice versa. It’s one of those things that happen in life, as sad as it is when there are kids involved. I’m sure it’s been happening for centuries and it will probably happen for centuries to come.”

“How did you -?”

“Find out? Oh it wasn’t hard, not in a small town like this. I ran into some of your mother’s friends and they were more than happy to fill me in, without me having to ask a single leading question I might add. Seems your mother and her friends think you and I could be quite good together, something I agreed with right up until about now, when I realised what a major pain in the ass you actually are. You think I’m arrogant and maybe that’s the case, but
you
are a judgmental shrew. You’ve been judging me since the day we met, and based on nothing. I thought after last night we were getting somewhere, but you’re still determined to keep me at arm’s length and play the grieving, mysterious victim. Wake up Maggie, you’re the only one making yourself that. Your ex is the one who lost out,
he’s
the one with the problem. If he knew how often you still think of him he’d be over the moon I’m sure. Forget it. Let it go. Stop being angry at every man you meet and live life again, before you become so bitter and twisted your daughter ends up the same way.”

Maggie gasped as if he had slapped her.

“Get out,” she hissed. “Get off my land and get away from my family.”

He shook his head. “
I’m sorry things had to end this way. I really like you and I hoped maybe we could have had something. I hope you heed my words Maggie. Leave the past where it belongs and let it go. If you decide you want to live for the present and embrace life again, call me.”

Then he was gone. She waited till she heard
his truck start and crunch off down the driveway before she sank down onto the grass and dropped her head into her hands. She started to cry.  

In the downstairs bathroom, Ray and Dot had been jostling for viewing space out the small slated window, taking turns to kneel on the closed toilet seat.

“Oh my baby,” Dot said sadly. “I’d better go out to her.”

“No,” Ra
y put a hand on her arm. “He’s right. Everything he said was right and she needed to hear it. Give her some time to absorb what she’s heard. Maybe he’ll finally get through to her where we’ve failed.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Only time will tell.”

Outside, Maggie
finished crying; using her long skirt to wipe the salty tears off her cheeks and chin where they had pooled and were hanging perilously.

“He has no idea what he’s talking about,” she sniffed to herself. She looked up at the house; if she knew her parents well enough, which she considered she did, they had been watching and
eavesdropping on the whole exchange. She wondered why her mother hadn’t come out to defend her, or commiserate with her because of all the horrible, untrue things Jack had said.

Because they
were
untrue.

Weren’t they?

She lay down on the grass, squeezing her eyes shut against the bright glare of the sun. The grass tickled at the back of her legs and bare feet.

She didn’t really act like a victim did
she? She had worked so hard to provide for herself and Willow since Jon left, refusing to be reliant on anyone else. Were those the actions of a victim? No, they weren’t.

Then the thought occurred to her; maybe he’d meant emotionally.

Was she an emotional victim? To her growing horror, she found she couldn’t deny it. Oh my god, she thought. No. He can’t be right.

But maybe, just maybe, he was.

She thought about all the passion she’d invested into hating Jon for what he’d done, for all those years. Energy wasted on a man who had never bothered to get back in touch, not even for his daughters sake. She thought of all the times she’d turned down dates, using her daughter as an excuse. And not just with men. Other gatherings, special occasions, all politely turned down by her because she didn’t want to go and be the subject of anyone’s pity, the woman whose husband couldn’t stand her so much that he’d never contacted his own child again.

She’d blamed herself all this time.

But it
wasn’t
her fault. It was
his
fault.
He
was the one with the problem. He was the one who left. He was the one who was a bad parent; not her. Yet here she was, with all these hang ups, refusing to let anyone close again in case she discovered they too thought she wasn’t worth sticking around for. Jon had left her feeling unlovable. He’d left her aching with pain and guilt and the belief that it was her fault Willow had no father in her life; that she had driven him away.

She had to stop blaming herself for that.

It was
his
decision to leave. It was
his
decision to never come back and to never contact them again.

But it hurt. It hurt so, so much
that they hadn’t been enough for him. She was strong enough to take it, but was Willow?

She hadn’t even realised that she’d been crying again, until a tear found its way into her ear and tickled as it slipped into her ear canal
, causing her to give a little shudder. She sat up and dabbed her ear with her dress. It was peaceful out in the back garden. The grass could do with a mow, but it wasn’t so long it was unsightly. Instead it waved in a barely perceptible breeze, and felt like a soft cool rug. Birds were singing, the sun was warm on her skin. Her mother had been right; summer and its bountiful days were just around the corner. She saw white butterflies hovering over the cabbages in the garden, so she got to her feet and picked up the old badminton racket leaning against a fence post. She waved it around to chase them away just as she had as a child. She closed her eyes and turned her face up to the sun and she smiled.

Life is good, she told herself.

Life is really,
really,
good.

And in that instant she made the decision to let go of her lingering hurt from the past. She might have thought she was doing the best she could for herself and Willow, but as long as she continued to harbour resentment and bitterness she would never truly be at peace. And oh, she longed for peace.
She would focus on the here and now and enjoy each day as it came. But most importantly, she would forgive Jon. It was time to banish him from occupying so many of her thoughts.