Page 122 of Just Watch Me
“What you said is what I needed to hear. That you miss me, and for some reason, unreliable as I am in the ‘daily presence’ department, you still want me. WhatI’msaying is that in two days, I hope you’ll be running across the arrivals lobby in the most spectacular way possible and throwing yourself intomy arms. Or—wait. That could be me. Although I plan totakeyou in my arms, because I’m the man.”
So that was nice.
Now, though, Zane was presumably sleeping off his night, and she was, yes, cooking yet another dinner. Just with Scarlett this time, because there was only so much Cooking School a very tired Year One teacher could manage at the end of term, and Scarlett was the most interested anyway, which had been a surprise. The rest of the kids were watching a movie—she was pleading fatigue on the “too much TV time” front, too—and Scarlett was slicing carrots and courgettes.
“Like this?” the girl asked.
“Yes,” Skylar said, “but now slice them again lengthwise. They’re meant to be julienned, and that means like matchsticks. I’m pleased you wanted to learn to make this.”
“It was the second thing you made for us,” Scarlett said, “and I thought I might be able to?—”
“Yes?” Skylar asked, sliding the udon noodles into the pot of boiling water. “Oh—eight to ten minutes for these, and then you drain them and rinse them well, because there’s heaps of starch on them and otherwise they get sticky. I’m doing the sauce now. That’s just soy sauce, rice vinegar, cornflour with water, and a bit of honey, but it makes all the difference. But tell me what it is you thought you might be able to do. If it’s cooking, I’d say you’re a natural. You have confidence, and confidence is good. Julia Child said, ‘Never apologize and never explain.’ What you serve is what you meant to serve, and nobody needs to hear that the cake was meant to be moister or the Chilli Crisp Beef Noodles less spicy. You drop a bit of whipped cream or ice cream onto the cake slices or squeeze some extra lime into your noodles to cut the heat, and tell yourself that if anybody thinks they can do better, they’re welcome to cook next time.”
“So did you do that before?” Scarlett said. “Worry?”
Skylar laughed. “Oh, darling. I did that so much.Idothat so much. Not with teaching, because I’m pretty confident in my teaching these days, but in other things? Yes. Remember my terrible date outfit?”
Scarlett said, “You always seemed like you knew exactly what to do, though, when you were my teacher.”
“Because you were five,” Skylar said, “and I was possibly faking it a bit. Iwasn’tas confident then, because I hadn’t had as many years to learn. Confidence is just having had so many things go wrong that you know how to fix them. How your dad is on the rugby field, for example. So many things happen out there, and they happen so fast. It seems to me that if he worried about making a mistake, or even thought about the mistake he’d just made, he’d never be able to play.”
“Yes!” Scarlett said. “He says he thinks about it later, after the match, and especially the next day. The coaches tell him what he did wrong, and he knows what he did wrong anyway, and then he works harder at that thing so he won’t do it next time. He says the only way you’ll ever be great is to front up and own your mistakes and learn. Also that you have to lose sometimes so you know how to win next time. He says it isn’t easy, but if it was easy, everybody would do it. And I—” She stopped again.
“He’s a wise man,” Skylar said, “even though not everybody knows it, because he doesn’t say much. But I want to hear whatyouthink. About cooking, or about this, or both. I talked and didn’t let you do it, so here’s your chance. I’m listening.”
Scarlett didn’t answer for a minute. Concentrating on chopping, and probably gathering her thoughts. Or her courage. Skylar waited and pushed her noodles about in the pot so they wouldn’t stick, and eventually, Scarlett said, “I’d like to do some more cooking at home. Some morethingsat home. Not to be just a kid. The others say I’m bossy, but I—” She stopped.
“You want responsibility,” Skylar said. “Same as your dad.”
“Yes. And at school, too, and later. I’m good at rugby, so maybe I’d be good enough to do that, but I’m not sure if I want to. Women’s rugby still doesn’t pay that well. Besides, Iliketo play, but maybe I want to do something else instead. Maybe be—” She stopped again.
“I’m here listening,” Skylar said. “And I won’t tell anyone what you say unless you tell me it’s OK.”
“Not even Dad?”
“Not even your dad.”
“OK,” Scarlett said. “Then I think I want to read law at university. Maybe. We had somebody come and talk about it during Careers Week, and it seems like something I’d like to do. The lady said that it’s about learning the law first, and having logic, then using those things to make an argument that people will believe. I think I’d be good at that.”
“I think you’d be brilliant at that,” Skylar said. “But I don’t see why that should be so hard for you to say, or to believe. You must know how much your dad believes in you. You’re very bright, and you’re a leader. You’re not afraid to stand up and say what you think. Those are powerful qualities.”
“Really?” More vulnerable than Scarlett had ever sounded.
“Really,” Skylar promised.
“Because,” Scarlett said, “what I’dreallylike to do is be a judge. Or maybe sit in Parliament. Someday. Once I know enough. I want todecidethings. I want to make things better, if they’re wrong. I want tofixit.”
Skylar said, “Hang on. Draining noodles.” Once she had, she turned back to Scarlett and said, “Can you come here a second?”
“Uh … OK.” The girl did, and Skylar put her arms around her and held her. Scarlett stiffened at first, and then relaxed and, so tentatively, cuddled back. Just for a moment.
“OK,” Skylar said, pulling back and smiling at her. “Embarrassing moment over, and back to cooking very soon. I just felt so proud of you, telling me your dream,havinga dream. Especially a dream like that, wanting to fix the things that are wrong. You’re an extraordinary person, Scarlett. Not just an extraordinary girl. An extraordinaryperson.And someday …” She was choking up again, the too-ready tears making their appearance bang on cue. Stupid hormones. “Someday,” she managed to go on, “I’m going to watch you take that oath, or put on your robes for the first time, or whatever wonderful thing you do. And I’m going to say, ‘I taught that girl. I knew her when she was five years old, and I always knew she was special. I always knew that she’d go far.’”
46
COMING HOME
Zane’s body was decidedly tired. And more than decidedly jet-lagged. He was on a plane again, too, after close to twenty-four hours on another one the day before. And he didn’t care. This flight was only three hours, and when they landed, he wouldn’t be following somebody’s back onto a team bus. He’d be in Fiji with a week of pure leisure ahead of him. “Hedonism” might mean something different when you traveled with six kids, but sun, sand, sea, and a warm, willing woman underneath him every night? A woman whose hand he was holding right now?
