“Of course not.” Not anymore, anyway.
She releases my hand. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”
“I’ll be in touch soon.” I give her a smile and leave the cafe.
As I go out into the bright May sunshine, a wave of relief washes over me. I feel as if I’ve avoided a landmine.
Chessie was right. I’m sure some men might have gone in guns blazing, tried to force her to withdraw her announcement of being pregnant, accused her of being spiteful, maybe even threatened her. I’m not like that, but it would have been easy to let anger win.
Instead, we seem to have an uneasy peace, and I think that’s a very good start, and a lot more than I expected coming here today.
I get in the car and take the ferry back to Waiheke, then on impulse drive over to my parents’ house. I still have a few hours before I have to pick Chessie up, and I haven’t seen my folks for a while. They normally go to church on Sunday morning, then return home for Sunday lunch and a quiet afternoon, so I’m sure they’ll be at home.
Dad told me they’ve talked about divorce, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to them about it yet, so I don’t know how the discussion has developed.
When I arrive at their house, I park out the front, get out, and make my way around the side of the house to the back deck. I find Mum sitting there, looking out at the magnificent view of the Pacific, lost in thought.
It’s extremely unusual to find her doing nothing. She’s one of those people who’s always on the move. She’s a member of numerous institutes and groups, and she’s always working on her laptop or making phone calls to one of her many friends. So it’s with some consternation that I approach her and say, “Kia ora, e te whaea.” It means ‘Hello, my mother.’
She turns and sees me. “Kingi…” She wipes her face. Oh fuck, she was crying.
“Hey…” I go up and give her a hug. “What’s up? What’s the matter?”
“I’m okay. Just a bit emotional.” She looks tired, which again is unlike her, as she normally has boundless energy.
I take the seat next to her. “Where’s Dad?” I’m guessing her current emotional state has something to do with him.
She drops her gaze. “He’s gone out.”
“Have you argued?”
She doesn’t reply, so I know I guessed right.
“Mama…” I frown. “What did you argue about?”
“He wants to stay together for appearance’s sake. He’s concerned about his public image.” There’s a touch of bitterness to her voice.
I understand Dad’s concern. When you run your own company, and your success relies on appearing in control, things like this can affect how people see you. It’s why Mikaere keeps on about being respectable. Image is everything. But she’s hurting, and I’m not going to say that to her.
“And you don’t want to stay together?”
“What’s the point?” She looks out to the ocean again. “The relationship is dead. And I don’t want to live the rest of my life like this. I’m only fifty-three. I want to be happy.”
“I understand.” My throat tightens. “You deserve that.”
“I do, and I deserve to be loved. He hasn’t loved me for a long time.”
I shift in my seat. It’s not easy to hear that about my father. I respect him and I look up to him. I don’t like hearing that he hasn’t been good to my mother.
“He must still love you if he wants to stay here,” I say.
But she shakes her head. “It’s all about appearances. Did you know that it’s been two years since he even kissed me?”
That shocks me. “Seriously?”
She meets my eyes then. “He’s having an affair.”
I stare at her. “I asked him if he was, and he said no.”