The Marriage Gap Year, page 10
“I guess that’s good.” They strolled on again, a little further apart.
“Your problem’s not about listening,” said Kendry, “it’s about doing.”
“Christ, I don’t need more self-help shit right now, Ken, I just need you to be a friend!”
“You okay?” said Kendry, concerned. She took a few steps closer.
Emma turned her face away and felt the first contortions of an ugly cry.
“Honey, what’s the matter?” Kendry put an arm on Emma’s shoulder.
Emma shook her head and wiped her eyes with the palms of her hand. “I cheated on Rob,” she said quietly.
“Oh sweetie.” Kendry pulled her friend close and put her arms around her. “God, you have been busy.” Emma snorted and Kendry held her friend as she cried. “You didn’t cheat. Not in my books. You were on a break. It’s different.” She rubbed Emma’s back.
“You’re going to get through this,” said Kendry, her head behind Emma’s ear. “No matter what it is.” Kendry pulled away and looked Emma in the face. “You know why?”
Emma shook her head.
“Because you don’t have a choice.”
Emma smiled.
“Plus,” said Kendry, patting her on the shoulder, “you don’t have to do it alone.” Kendry looped her arm through Emma’s again and they walked on, turning down a side street that was more of an alley, where commercial dumpsters stood against water-stained concrete walls.
“The good news is the surprise I had in mind is even better now.” Kendry dropped Emma’s arm to push open a large wooden door that was easy to walk past without noticing and disappeared inside. But Emma felt a bit wounded and raw, less inclined to follow Kendry on one of her off-the-beaten-track adventures.
Kendry popped out again from behind the door. “Come on. This’ll be good for you.”
Emma took a breath. Kendry could be pushy. It’s how she got what she wanted. Her way was the best way. Problems were solved whenever she decided they were. Alistair’s affairs were inexcusable, but, on some level, Emma conceded that her friend must have been difficult to live with day-to-day. She’d never say that to her face, of course, felt guilty just thinking it. But thinking it helped Emma feel somewhat better about her own situation. Nobody’s life was perfect.
Emma pushed open the heavy door, expelling her residual frustration with Kendry. She stepped inside the hushed elegance of a boutique spa. Soft light fell on walls of recycled wood paneling. Different-sized niches were cut into the wood and filled with bonsai trees. These miniature trees left Emma feeling like a giant striding through a manicured vertical forest. Kendry was at a counter under a blue fabric banner with Japanese writing on it and the words Kazuki Day Spa. She was taking possession of two white robes from a young woman with skin so tight it looked stretched across her face like a canvas. She probably had a chic spa-worthy name like Bella or Chantelle. Emma walked over on the stone floor, which radiated a soothing warmth that rose up her legs. The soft glow of light poured in like radiant mist.
“What is this place?” said Emma, still feeling a little drained. No doubt her eyes were bloodshot from crying. She’d look a mess.
“We’re going to shut out the noise for a while, hon.” Kendry handed Emma one of the robes. “Whatever plans you had, cancel them. We’ll be here for a while.”
Emma hesitated when Kendry handed her a glass of champagne.
“Drink up,” said Kendry, taking a sip from her own glass, followed by a gulp. “We’ve got a full agenda: halo therapy, salt-and-oil scrub, but first, we clear out the clutter with sensory deprivation. Sixty minutes of just you. No light, no sound, no gravity.” Kendry closed her eyes and hugged herself.
“Like in one of those tubs?” Emma took a sip of champagne; she didn’t like a buzz this early in the day.
Kendry nodded as she filled in some form at the counter. “Mmhmm,” she said, scribbling her signature with a flourish.
“You should’ve said something before. I didn’t bring a bathing suit or anything.”
“So what?” Kendry grimaced. “We’ll just get some here.” She turned to the spa attendant – Arabella, it turns out. “You guys sell swimsuits here, right?” The attendant nodded. “There you go, just pick something you like and strap it on. Me, I prefer to go in the nude. You didn’t hear that,” she added, smiling at Arabella, who nodded demurely.
Emma scrunched up her face. “Are there going to be other people in there?”
“No. Relax. You’re in there by yourself. That’s kind of the point, darl. It’s just you. In the dark. Alone.” Kendry leaned in close. “Back to the womb.”
Emma crinkled her nose, then leaned into her friend and whispered, “Kendry, this place looks…high end. I’m not sure I can—”
“You’re right, you can’t,” said Kendry, finishing her champagne. “Which is why it’s my treat. And don’t go getting all weird and guilty about it. I have money, hon. It’s about all I’ve got, so at least let me enjoy using it to spoil the people I love without them feeling bad about it. Deal?”
“Okay,” Emma smiled. “It’s just weird.”
“What’s weird?”
“I don’t know. We used to do this, going to some kooky place you’d found. Back then they were nightclubs, now they’re day spas.”
“Ha. Darling, nothing’s changed.” Kendry tucked the folded bathrobe under her arm. “We just need to cleanse our bodies to make room for the devils who desire them.”
Arabella spoke in a monotone whisper. “Have you both done this before?”
Kendry’s hand shot up. “I’m a veteran. She’s a first timer.”
“Okay. Come through and I’ll show you how it works.”
“I’m in this room here, right darl?” said Kendry, pointing, already heading down the hallway. “Em, I’ll see you in the heated charcoal room in about an hour. Bliss out. Don’t worry about creating your future in there. Just be in the now.” Kendry disappeared behind a frosted glass door, leaving behind a sudden quiet which the pan flutes drifting down from overhead speakers could not fill.
Emma followed Arabella into a square, tiled room. The sensory deprivation tank in the middle sat like an open clamshell. Emma approached the pod as she might an open casket, peering over the ledge, ready to spring back at the sight of whatever lay inside. The still water glowed with colored lights. The effect was mesmerizing, and Emma paid little attention to Arabella’s instructions on how to use the various buttons inside the cocoon to adjust lights, sounds and whatever else.
“Pure darkness and silence is best to quiet the mind,” purred Arabella. “Though many people have to work up to complete darkness.” So, Emma thought, there were levels to this contraption. She vowed to show the tank she could handle being alone in the dark.
“If you have any issues, press the emergency button inside the tank.” The need for such a button fueled Emma’s anxiety, but she was determined to be mindful. She needed Arabella to leave now, so she could approach the sensory deprivation tank in her own way.
“How long do I stay in there?”
“One hour. Some gentle music and lights will let you know when time is up.”
Arabella padded to the door and bowed before leaving. Emma checked the door was locked and undressed.
Once inside, Emma closed the lid and floated in the salt water, slowly spinning in the warm darkness of her cocoon. “Pretend you are a lily pad floating in the primordial soup,” Arabella had suggested. Emma soon got bored of being a lily pad and farted in the primordial soup. Instantly she felt safer in there, as if the echo made the pod belong to her somehow, erasing whoever had been in here before.
Try as she might to “empty her mind,” to “accept the now,” none of Dr Priya’s incantations seemed to work. Images of Erik’s shirtless torso, her hands squeezing his ropey forearms, the litheness of his body on top of hers invaded the false stillness of this place. The warmth and silkiness of the water, the steamy air, the steady drips of condensation sliding off the lid of this contraption now all felt sexy. Emma moved her hands over herself, but it felt weird. Too public. What if there were cameras? For safety or whatever?
Plus, there was Rob, now a victim in the situation she’d created. What was he doing right now? Probably not trying to baptize away his guilt in a sensory deprivation tank. How was she supposed to get a sense of what to do if she was always asking herself if he was okay? Was it right to be tethered to someone this way?
How long had it been since she closed the lid? She’d felt good at first in the strange buoyancy of the warm water. But it wasn’t long (or was it?) before she found herself working hard to chase all these thoughts from her mind. She wondered how clean this water was. Whether the solution was drained after every use, or just filtered. How forgiving was the filter? And when had the tub itself last been cleaned? What if being naked in here made an infection more likely?
This was meant to be calming and restorative, and yet here she was coming up with reasons to abort the experience, disconnecting from the very tranquility she was meant to enjoy, squandering the expensive serenity that Kendry had so generously paid for. Emma’s thoughts resembled an Escher drawing, leading everywhere and nowhere, a fluid cycle of confusion and anxiety.
Her fingertips creased with water wrinkles, and she caressed the skin of her belly, made soft and slick by the kilos of dissolved salt that kept her afloat. She caressed the stretch marks on her hips and tried, as Dr Priya suggested, to think of her scars as rings on the inside of a tree, lines of growth and wisdom.
She wouldn’t tell Rob about the other night with Erik. It would do no good. Besides, if Will found out, he wouldn’t understand. Maybe a relationship needed a few secrets to keep it afloat.
Chapter Sixteen
The dim morning sun rose from behind a still pink ocean. Slow waves slapped the base of the cliffs, the only disturbance in the breathless dawn. Rob shifted uneasily from one foot to the other on a dewy patch of grass near the edge of the cliff. He blew on his hands and rubbed them together. There was work to do, but Sareena was still sitting in the back of her truck. She lifted her phone above her head, adjusted a few strands of hair that poked out from under her beanie and snapped a selfie. Rob raised his eyebrows. Sareena adjusted the collar of her puffy down vest and took another picture.
Rob checked the clock on his phone. “It’s nearly eight.”
“They’ll be here,” said Sareena, without looking up.
Rob scratched the back of his neck.
Sareena kept tapping the screen, zooming in and out of her photo. “Relax. This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t like the look of the bull.”
“Uhm.” She turned her head toward him. “Am I supposed to be the bull in this scenario?”
“What? No. I meant the project and the f—”
“Rob.” Sareena hopped from the back of her truck. “Chill, mate. I’m fucking with you. Look!” She pointed at the hill. “Here they come now.”
Rob looked up and saw three pairs of headlights moving around on the bumpy road.
The cars descended the steep track and moved into a growing shaft of morning light. They were old-looking vehicles, vintage and restored, painted in deep, luscious colors you just didn’t see on the road anymore. There was a bottle-green truck with polished wood paneling, a canary-yellow flatbed with curvy almost bulbous fenders, and a candy-apple red fire truck with a chrome grill that sparkled in the sun like a disco ball. They certainly made an entrance, these trucks, but why use showpiece vehicles on a worksite where bumps and scrapes were part of the job. Were the owners of these fancy trucks too precious for the work that lay ahead? They had a lot of gutting and repointing to do today to keep the build on schedule. Still, it was cool to see these old cars. They looked impractical, but they made him happy.
Rob’s old man had been a long-haul trucker, but he had spent a life on the roads taking notes on the cars he most often saw broken down in a ditch. “Don’t get a Holden,” he said. He was a man of few words, as if each one cost him something.
But there was a Holden now, an orange 1970s Sandman panel van. And it looked bizarre coming down the hill, as if emerging from the wormhole of time. The only thing missing was the surfboards. Rob smiled just looking at it.
He surveyed the loads these vintage trucks were hauling, anxious to see gear that was fit for purpose, and was relieved to identify the components of aluminum scaffolding, piled high in the back of the old green truck. The whole load was tied down with ratchet straps, neat and prim as Christmas wrapping. Whoever that guy was, he knew what he was doing. You could tell a lot about a person from his attention to detail.
He turned to Sareena. “How come you don’t have one of these?”
“Who says I don’t?”
Rob smiled.
The vehicles fanned out and parked on the open field next to the house. Sareena put on her hard hat and walked over, with Rob following slowly behind. Doors opened and Sareena hugged the occupants of the vehicles as they emerged, each one a woman.
Rob planted himself beside Sareena and the group sort of gathered, even if they were still spread out, propped here and there, leaning on their cars. It wasn’t the tight semi-circle Rob preferred for a morning briefing.
“Everyone,” said Sareena, “this is Rob. Rob, everyone.” Sareena pointed down the line. “This here is Jemma.” She gestured toward a round woman whose facial features seemed to gather in the center of her face. “Jemma’s a – what would you say, Jem? – a woodworking, landscape designing—”
“Just chippie will do. Nothing fancy. Good to meet you, Rob.”
“Okay,” said Sareena, “next there, in the flannel, is Jacqui. Jacq’s a stonemason and so is Kim over there – hey Kim.” Sareena waved.
“Hi,” said a woman small enough to be mistaken for a child.
“So,” Sareena continued, “the three of us are going to work on the exterior wall today, which is why…” Sareena scanned the assembled group. “Alex? Where’s Alex? I just saw her?”
“Up here.” Alex popped out above the pile of scaffolding, a ratchet strap tight in her wiry, tattooed arms.
“Oh, hey,” said Sareena. “I was just going to say it’d be great if you could give us a hand putting the stage up before joining the demo team, but you’re already onto it.”
“Yep, on it.”
“Sweet. Okay, well that leaves Steph and Dani over there in the – what are those girls? – prison jumpsuits?”
Steph posed like a model. “They’re coveralls.”
“Well, they are a bit orange,” said Dani.
“Mega orange,” said Steph. “Super hi-vis.”
Dani put both hands on her hips and did a little twirl like a catwalk model. “At least we won’t get shot by hunters.”
“I like it,” said Sareena. “Safety first. Plus, extra points for style.” She motioned to Rob. “Like I said, this is Rob. If you’re working and he asks you for something…check with me first.” Sareena laughed, turned to Rob and put a hand on his shoulder. “Just kidding, mate,” she chuckled. “Your face, though. Classic. Seriously, guys, this is Rob’s project, we’re just here to make sure it gets done right. The client who owns this place is a major property developer, so if we do this well, it could mean a fuck ton of work for us, so let’s put in our best?”
The group murmured in agreement. “Couldn’t hear you,” said Sareena. “I said, are you ready to put in your best?”
“Yes,” they shouted in unison.
“Good,” said Sareena. “Remember, you’re only here for a few months. But this house has been here a hundred years, and if you do your job right, it’ll be here long after you’re gone. So, let’s do our best to honor the house and this amazing place. I mean just take a moment to look around and feel it.” They all turned and took in their surroundings. A chilly ocean breeze raised goosebumps on exposed skin. The lapping waves stirred up a milky haze of salt spray that floated deep into the trees, alive with birdsong. The moist sea air seemed to help them breathe deeper and longer than normal air, as if each breathe were a sigh.
“Okay,” said Sareena quietly. “Rob, did you want to add anything?”
Rob rubbed his palms together. “No, you pretty much said everything I was going to say,” he said, laughing. The others chuckled with him supportively. “Look, I’m not much of a public speaker, but I just want to say that I’m excited to see what you can do.”
“Okay, everyone,” said Sareena quickly, almost cutting him off. “Steph and Dani, you can get started with the internal demo, start working out what the plumbing situation is. The rest of us, let’s get that scaffold up. Have a great day, people.” Sareena clapped them out. The team dispersed and went about their work with military precision.
Sareena turned to Rob and raised her eyebrows. “I want to see what you can do?” she said quietly.
“What?”
“Seriously? You don’t see the problem? Like, not at all?”
“What?”
“Is that what you would’ve said if it was a bunch of guys?”
Rob shrugged. “I don’t know, probably.”
“Uh, huh.” Sareena turned and began to walk away.
“Not sure what I’ve done wrong here,” said Rob, puzzled.
Sareena looked back over her shoulder. “I believe that, Rob.” She looked him up and down. “Doesn’t make it right, though.” She put on her sunglasses and walked away.
Geez. Everyone was so sensitive nowadays. Why did everything he said have to mean something. Just because you read into something that wasn’t there, that didn’t make it true. Not everything was a man or woman thing. He was talking about craftsmanship. Skills. You had ’em or you didn’t. Simple as that. That’s all he meant. He wasn’t talking about sex or gender or whatever. He’d worked with plenty of good female tradies and never had a problem with them. He’d have to watch this chip on Sareena’s shoulder. It could get a guy in trouble.
