Page 23 of The Mother-in-Law

‘I’ll take that as a no,’ she says, and disappears out of the room.

‘I’ll walk you out,’ Tom says.

‘No, no,’ I say hurriedly. ‘Don’t get up, please. We can see ourselves out.’

I expect Tom to insist but he just nods. ‘Rightio then. You kids take care.’

I am sick with mortification. What were wethinkingasking Diana for money? Suddenly it seems so obvious. With what Ollie has told me about his upbringing—how Diana insisted he and Nettie be raised with part-time jobs and second-hand cars and an understanding that not everyone is as privileged as them—of course Diana wasn’t going to be in favour of giving them a handout. Sure, they went to private schools and had some pretty amazing holidays (at Tom’s insistence), but they also spent weekends picking up donations for her charity and serving at the local soup kitchen. The worst part is, as humiliated as I am, Diana made some very good points when she turned us down. Other generations have had it harder. Ollie and I do have the ability to buy a house within our means. Which means I can’t evenhateher for what she said.

As we reach the foyer Nettie and Patrick materialise, as if from nowhere.

‘How’d it go?’ Nettie whispers. Her face is apologetic, as if she already knows exactly how we went. ‘Did she give you the spiel about how every generation has its challenges?’

Ollie nods. ‘But if we want it badly enough—’

‘—you’ll make it work?’

Ollie and Nettie chuckle quietly.

‘Commiserations,’ Patrick says. He’s obviously been sampling some of Tom’s top-shelf drinks while we were being given the lay of the land because he smells of whisky.

‘Thank goodness for Dad, eh?’ Nettie says. ‘If it wasn’t for him, we’d all be left penniless on the street.’

‘What are you talking about?’ I ask.

‘Oh, don’t look so worried, Lucy!’ Nettie says, throwing an arm around my shoulders. ‘Dad’s not going to let you miss out on your house. He’s probably already written Ollie a cheque, am I right, Ol?’

Ollie pats his jeans pocket, and grins.

‘What?’ I say.

‘We all knew Mum wouldn’t go for it. She never does.’ He glances at Nettie who nods. ‘We also knew Dad would.’

‘Sothat,’ I point toward the good room, ‘was what exactly? A performance put on for your mother’s benefit?’

Ollie, Nettie and Patrick look mildly perplexed. It is like everyone is in on a joke I don’t understand.

Ollie gives a small hapless grin. ‘I mean, I guess so. It’s no big deal, Luce. It’s . . . just the way the Goodwins do things.’

Now it’s my turn to look perplexed. I shake my head, sincerely stunned. ‘Well, I’m sorry to tellyouthat the Goodwins are going to do things differently from now on.’

‘Can you pull over, please?’ I ask Ollie as soon as we are out of Tom and Diana’s driveway.

Ollie glances at me then sighs and rolls the car to a stop.

‘Please don’t ever involve me in these games with your parents again.’

Ollie pulls up the handbrake and shifts in his seat so his knees are angled toward me. He is attempting, I know, to be conciliatory. ‘I told you. This is just how it works in our family. You heard Nettie. It’s just the process.’

‘Theprocess?’ I blink hard. ‘What does that even mean?’

‘Don’t you and your dad have processes around money? Like when we got married, you asked him for money then.’

‘I never asked him for anything. Heoffered to pay for our wedding.’

‘But you knew he would offer. That’s a process. Kind of.’ Ollie smiles a little, but it slides away when I don’t return it. ‘Listen, I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have involved you.’

‘You shouldn’t have involvedyourself!’ I look at the dashboard. ‘Your mother was right. We’re adults, we’re smart. We need to take responsibility for our own lives now. I don’t want to ask them for money ever again. Not for a house. Not for a car. Not for a litre of milk. Okay?’