Page 114 of Just Watch Me
CLEANING UP THE MESS
“So,” Zane said as soon as they walked through the doors of Woolworths and grabbed their trolleys. “Tell me your brilliant ideas. Bloody hell. The earthquake was easier.”
“I don’t have brilliant ideas at my fingertips, sorry,” she said. “Let’s start in the meat aisle so I can look at the prices, shriek, and promptly depart for the canned beans.”
“If your lot ate with mine,” Zane said, “you could get better iron and protein. B12 as well. Good for you, and good for the kids, too. Is this dinner tonight for eight, you reckon, or twelve?”
“Eight,” Skylar said firmly. She said it firmly because Zane was tossing packets of eye fillet into the trolley.Teneye fillets, to be exact. Grass-fed. Seventy-nine dollars a kilogram. The mind boggled.
“Explain why,” Zane said, adding multiple kilos of mince and following up with three trays of boneless lamb shoulder chunks. Skylar contented herself with the mince, then, on reflection, added a single tray of the boneless lamb shoulder. Thirty dollars, but if she put in enough carrots, kumara, parsnips, onions, peas, and potatoes, they could eat it for twoor three nights with enough left over for her lunches. She could do it in the slow cooker, and it wouldn’t be beans, greens, and grains.
“Veg aisle next,” she said, and he trundled along after her. She was still wearing the curtains, her hair was still on the messy side, and she still wasn’t wearing makeup, but she wasn’t going to worry about it. First, she had a black cardigan over the top, which made the outfit slightly less loud, and second, Zane seemed perfectly content to be here with her. “I’ve decided that self-consciousness and insecurity are too exhausting,” she told him. “I’m abandoning them.”
“Good,” he said, tossing veggies into his cart with wild abandon and absolutely no consideration for price. The All Blacks were going to drop him if he kept up this lack of Kiwi frugality. “Still waiting on those brilliant ideas.”
“You need to spend some time with your kids over the next few days,” she said. “Clearly. Watch a movie with them, swim with them, read with them, whatever you usually do. Your attentionhasbeen diluted, and they need the security.”
“OK.”
“No argument?”
He shrugged. “You’re the expert. And Nan and Geoffrey?”
“Not much we can do about them. I suspect they already have a pretty firm plan, if Granddad’s talking about a ‘bolthole.’ Your Nan didn’t exactly object, did she? They’re still willing to pitch in with the kids, though, so that hasn’t changed. How long are you in South Africa?”
“You realize that most women would’ve looked that up.”
“I told you, I was insecure. I’d look it up now, but you’re right here.”
“Five weeks. Four in South Africa and another in London.”
“Oh. All right, honesty. My heart’s sinking a bit at that. That’s a long time. But it’s at least as long for your kids.”
“My heart sinks a bit too,” he said. “Always. That’ll be thelongest, though. The second half of the Nations Championship in November—that’s in Europe—is only four weeks, and other than that, it’s just the Bledisloe Cup matches. One here and one in Aussie. But, yeh, I’ll be gone most of the time until December.”
“When do you leave? And where will you be training?”
“Auckland, luckily, at least for this first bit. Ten days or so. The training center in Wellington’s still buggered, but it won’t be for much longer, and even when I’m here, I’ll be in the team hotel most of the time, though. Can’t let some of the boys go home when the rest can’t. I’ll have a Tuesday off, and the Tuesday night. And a Saturday afternoon and night before we fly out on the Sunday.”
“Right,” she said. “So we’re mainly talking about the next four days. Also, I can see why you haven’t had a relationship.”
“You’re right. Most women wouldn’t be too keen. Fortunately, you’re the independent sort, at least I’m hoping so. I’m also hoping that you and your kids will spend a bit of time with my kids while I’m gone, keep them used to the idea of you. I’ll have a week off after this tour, it’ll be the school holidays for you and the kids, and I don’t want to spend that time going through this all over again. It’s got to be done and dusted.”
“And you want to have sex with me while you’re still here,” she said. They were problem-solving, after all.
He grinned. “Well, yeh, I would. Well done on the direct communication. I’d like as much sex as possible, please. I may not be all I once was, but I’m pretty sure I can manage a fair amount in the next four days. And then there are those couple of nights. What’s ‘honeymoon cystitis,’ by the way? Something I should worry about?”
“A UTI you get from having heaps of sex after not having any. The main thing is that I’m meant to have a wee after intercourse, so bacteria doesn’t have a chance to flourish. Orsomething, because I’m not sure of the infection process.” She wasn’t going to be embarrassed. If they were going to do all the things they’d done, plus all the things she suspected he wanted to do, they had to be able to have an open conversation.
“OK. If you’re falling asleep, I’ll remind you.”
“Thank you. If you’d reminded me last night, I would’ve washed my face, too, and avoided the horror show this morning. If I break out enormously over the next couple of days, please pretend not to notice.”
He laughed, stopped where he was, grabbed her around the waist, and kissed her mouth. A few people stopped to look, possibly because of the black eye and the Steri-Strips, and somebody took a photo. Well, hewasan All Black. “I have my instructions,” he told her, and grinned.
“Good,” she said. “As for the rest of it, I have some ideas. Let’s move on to Dairy, and I’ll lay them out for you.”
They came into the house laden with enormous carrier bags. Skylar had two. Zane had eight, and they were the eight heaviest ones. How strong were his fingers, to manage all that?
