The Marriage Gap Year, page 30
She sniffed. “You’re not going to like it.”
His eyes narrowed. “Well, what is it?”
Emma’s face got tense and contorted; she couldn’t blink away the tears.
“Oh, Christ,” said Rob. “Is it what I think it is?”
She looked at him, swallowed her bottom lip and nodded.
“Oh, fuck, Emma.” He put his hand to his forehead as if he had a headache. “Why, Emma. Why would you do that?”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know.” She blew her nose. “No. That’s not true.” She balled up the paper towel and dabbed her nose with it. “I do know why.” She cleared her throat. “I did it because I wanted to.”
“Emma.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Who was it? Someone I know?”
“No.”
“Well, who then?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It fucken does!”
“We were on a break. And why do you even care, Rob?”
“Because I care! What the fuck are you talking about?”
She swallowed. “We don’t talk anymore, we don’t do things together, we never have sex.”
“Oh, please,” he looked away.
“We don’t.”
“Well, what the fuck, Emma, do you have any idea—”
“How busy I am. Yes! I’ve heard that. You’re very busy.”
“Hey,” Rob moved in close. “Don’t try and turn this on me. You’re the one who’s been fucking around!”
“Fucked one person Rob, yes! And you know what, I’m not sorry. I’m sorry you’re upset but I’m not sorry it happened. I’m grateful.”
“Well, glad you’re happy—”
“It was great. I’ll be honest, Rob.” He turned away again. “It was. I felt sexy and desired and alive.”
“I don’t want to hear this.”
“You never have heard it.” He glanced over his shoulder, annoyed. “Never,” she repeated. “You never wanted to talk. About anything. Never wanted to do anything, go anywhere or try anything new. I got tired of waiting, Rob.”
He turned away. “Waiting for what?”
“To live.” She moved closer, his back still turned. “I’m not saying I want to be with that person. Build a life with them.”
“Well, great. No issues, then.”
“Rob.”
“What?” He turned around, his face pouty.
“Are you really mad about this, or do you just you think you should be?”
He looked at her, hard, then broke his gaze, his attention drawn to the table he’d built. Rob walked over to the table and put both hands on its surface. He leaned down, his head lowered between his shoulders.
“Rob,” said Emma softly.
His shoulders trembled and he sniffed. “Fuck,” he brought his fist down on the table and pulled it back instantly. “Ow.” He turned, cradling his hand and rubbing his wrist. He winced and eased himself onto the floor.
Emma crouched and sat next to him. She put an arm around his shoulder. He leaned into her and rested his head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
He shook his head, wiped his eyes. “It’s fucking embarrassing.”
“What, crying?”
He nodded.
“You think this is the first time I’ve seen you cry?”
He took a deep breath, wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand. “When?”
“Christ, when not?” She squeezed his arm. “I know where you go. Out in your shed when you’ve had a few too many and you get all sentimental.”
He dragged his sleeve under his nose.
“You only think you’re hiding,” she said.
He smiled, sniffed.
“Crying sober, though, that’s progress.”
He looked up at the pitched roof of the shed where cobwebs hung like tassels. “John Williamson.” He clicked his tongue. “Gets me every time.”
“True Blue.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and hummed a few bars of the song.
Rob squeezed her arm.
Emma squeezed back. “I’m not trying to get rid of you, you old fart.” She patted his hand. “I love you. You’re family. Nothing’s going to change that.” She sat up, looked at him. “I want you to be a part of my life. I want to know that I can call you if I need to talk, or work something out. I want us to keep being parents, together. But I also know I don’t want to go back to the way it was. I love you. I do. But I don’t want to live together like we used to. I don’t know what our day-to-day looks like yet but it’s going to be different.”
He sniffed, cleared his throat.
She touched his knee. “You act so gruff. What if everyone knew you were just a big softie.”
He snorted and wiped his nose with his sleeve.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said. “We’ll work it out. We’re lucky, you know. We’ve got options. You see that, right?”
He nodded.
“It’s going to be better, Rob. For both of us.”
She hugged him and he held her, longer than he ever had.
They sat side-by-side next to the dining room table. Emma reached over and picked up the splintered handle of a hatchet, held it in front of her face. “My god,” she said. “You gave that a good go.” She smiled and glanced at the table over her head. “That’s one hell of a table.”
He smiled. “Fucken hell it is.”
She laughed, put her arm around his shoulder. “I love it.” She pulled him close and kissed him on the cheek.
Chapter Forty-One
The listing party for the stone house was in full swing. The solid building stood vigil on acres of freshly cut lawn. Glimpses of Bass Strait played peekaboo through hedges and reflections of pink granite flashed off polished glass.
People milled about the grounds taking selfies as Erik played guitar on a small stage near the front of the house. Young people with no hope of buying real estate were there too. It all made for good photos, said the photographer from the Home Design magazine.
Will was at the mixing board while Aaron stood near the stage, dressed in a crisp white shirt and black cut-off shorts, his bear tattoo sniffing the sea air.
Erik finished his song. “Geez,” said Rob, leaning toward Emma. “That fella’s alright. He’s no Tom Petty, but he’s pretty good.”
Emma smiled to herself and someone tapped her shoulder. “Mish! Oh my god, you made it.” Mish came in for a hug. “This is my husband, Rob,” said Emma, over Mish’s shoulder.
“Nice to meet you.” Mish shook Rob’s hand.
“I’ll let you two catch up,” he said, spying Syed walking alone on the freshly mowed lawns.
“So, how you been?” said Mish.
“It’s been weird.”
“I bet. Are things okay between you guys?”
“I think so. Feels like we’re moving into something new.”
“You guys separating then?”
Emma made a face like she was thinking about it. “I don’t know what we’d call it. I’m going to live in town, he’s going to live here.”
“Oh wow.”
“Yeah, it’s better that way.”
“Well, that sounds good. Hey, tough break about the Haimon Young job.”
Emma crinkled her nose. “That place wasn’t for me.”
Mish nodded. “Well, I’m kinda glad you said that, because I have a question.”
“Oh?”
“I’m quitting Catch. That place is a shithole.”
Emma chortled. “Well, you know what I think of it.”
“Oh, it’s a fucking mess. And the way they treated you was shitty. You deserved better.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll be honest. I want you to work with me.”
“What?”
“I’m starting my own recruitment company. Specifically for migrant women. It’s LinkedIn meets Fiver, for immigrants. Angie’s coming too.”
“Wow!” said Emma. “I had no idea.”
“Well, you had other things going on,” she said. “I want you to be my comms person.” She touched Emma’s arm. “Comms director, chief, whatever title you want.”
“Oh, no,” said Emma. “I’m flattered, but you want somebody…better.”
“Don’t be stupid. I want you. You’re, and I mean this in the nicest way, you’re old school.”
“Thanks.”
“What I mean is you’re a purist, you take pride in your work. Plus, you’re fun. I think you’ll get along with the team I’m putting together.”
Emma smiled then nibbled her lip. “Can I have some time to think about it? There’s just been so much—”
“Of course.” Mish put her hand on Emma’s shoulder. “We’re launching in six months. We haven’t told Jarod yet. We’re waiting until it hurts him the most.”
Mish and Emma looked at each other and grinned. “Annual report time,” they said together and laughed.
“What a dipstick,” Mish sighed.
Emma laughed. “You know what? Fuck it! Yes! I don’t have to think about it. I’m in.”
“Really?”
Emma hugged Mish. “I’m so glad people like you exist.”
“What do you mean?”
“People doing stuff. Trying to make things better.”
“I only have a business plan and a website, let’s not get too excited.”
“You know what I mean.” Emma pulled back. “You’re shaping the world around you instead of the other way round. That’s great. Gives me hope.”
“Thanks.” Mish blushed.
“Champagne?” Emma motioned to the trestle table on the lawn.
“Fuck yeah.”
Rob reached Syed who was taking an unusual interest in the long, wide hedge near the cliff, crouching down, patting the ground with his palms. “You could put a pool here,” said Syed, standing up, dusting off his hands. “Ground looks good. What do you think?” Syed pointed at the hearty shrubs that served as a windbreak. “Rip this out and put pool here?” Syed grinned.
“Anything’s possible.” Rob smiled.
“The band is nice.” Syed scanned the crowd appreciatively. “Get buyers interested.”
“About that.”
“Hmm?” Syed squinted.
“The buyer,” said Rob. “You’re looking at him.”
“Us,” said Sareena, beaming as she joined them.
Syed looked incredulous. “You can’t afford that. Can you?”
“Not separately,” said Sareena. “But we can if we subdivide.”
Syed shook his head. “Bad idea. Risky. The money’s in the land.”
“Nah, mate,” said Sareena. “It’s not just about making money. The value is in what we can do with the land.”
“Ah,” Syed mocked. “A master plan.” He spread out his ringed fingers and wiggled them.
“Rob can have the house,” said Sareena. “And then that part over there” – she turned and swept her finger across the level terrain of an adjacent field – “we turn that into an office and a trade school.”
“She wants to change the building industry.” Rob stuck his thumb out at Sareena. “Make it more sustainable.”
“And you are the one who helps her do this?” said Syed, looking at Rob.
“Well,” said Emma, walking toward them. Syed shielded his eyes to look at Emma’s silhouette coming down the hill. “I figure,” said Emma, “if you want to beat the competition in this trade, it’s probably good to know what makes ’em tick.” Rob smiled and held out his hand to help Emma down the grassy slope.
Syed looked at Emma. “You like this idea?”
Emma smiled. “I like it when everyone gets something.”
“Hmmm.” Syed moved his head from side to side as if considering the proposal. “I have other buyers.” He looked at the ground and nodded slowly. “And I think maybe I keep it for myself.”
“That’s bullshit, Sy.” Kendry’s voice shot from the top of the hill.
Emma turned. “Ken, you came.”
“Of course I came.” She fluffed up her hair. “I’m not going to miss a kick-ass housewarming with all my favorite people.” She turned to Sareena and stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Kendry.”
“Sareena.”
They shook hands.
“Geez,” Kendry said, looking Sareena up and down. “You’re a tall drink of water, aren’t you?”
Sareena blushed. “You too.”
“Now,” said Kendry, turning to Syed. She hunched over theatrically and rubbed her hands together. “Where were we? Oh yes.” She snapped her finger and pointed at Syed. “You were playing hard ball.”
Syed furrowed his bushy eyebrows and looked up at the sky. “These are nice ideas, but…”
“Here it comes,” said Kendry, smiling, all her teeth showing.
Syed put his hand on his chin. “Well, it’s not what I had in mind.”
Kendry cleared her throat. “Okay. So, you have a chance to make” – she pointed at everyone as she counted – “one, two, three, four, at least four people happy. Plus make off with what I assume is a shit-ton of money, all while kickstarting a new business and saving the building industry. Sounds like a good deal to me.”
“Ken,” said Rob, but Emma put her hand on his shoulder.
“Syed,” said Kendry. “Look around.” Everyone turned their heads and took in the scene. The rolling green hills, crawling with people, the rubberneckers and prospective buyers, the band, the lifestyle magazine, the photographer taking pictures. “You already got what you really wanted. Publicity. Legitimacy. Your name’s out there. Congratulations, you’re a player. It doesn’t really matter who buys the house. Unless it’s Hugh Jackman or Kylie Minogue. Are they here?” She pretended to look for them.
Syed squinted, the trace of a smile growing on his face.
“What if,” said Sareena, turning to Syed. “What if, once we get the trade school up and running, we can work something out? Maybe we could send our best people your way and you give ’em a leg up. That’d be win-win, no? What do you think?”
“Yeah, Sy.” Kendry rubbed her hands together. “Synergies. Does that sweeten the deal?”
He tilted his head from side to side. “What about you two?” he said, jutting his chin at Rob and Sareena.
“What about us?” said Sareena, with mock indignance. “You can’t afford us,” she smiled.
“I’m done with housing estates, mate,” said Rob.
Syed nodded slowly.
“How about this…” Sareena steepled her fingers. “You come across a cool project, something heritage, and we promise to look at it. And if we take it on, we’ll kick it back to you, but we get full control of the build and use our people.”
“Oh zing,” said Kendry.”
Syed stood there, head bobbing, considering the proposal. “Market price?” He pointed at the stone house in the distance.
“Minus five percent,” said Sareena. “Because I know you. You put a margin on everything.”
Syed laughed and rubbed his chin. He looked at Rob. “You sure?”
Rob nodded.
Syed looked at Sareena, stuck out his hand and walked toward her. “Deal,” he said, and shook her hand.
“Huzzah!” Kendry pumped her fists.
Emma looked at Rob. He seemed softer somehow, his gaze less penetrating. “I’m happy for you,” she said, and his face reddened like a little boy.
“Thanks,” he said, still blushing.
Emma smiled and gave Rob a hug, resting her head on the soft warmth of his chest. He squeezed her, rubbed her back, held her there, sinking into the moment. “You did an amazing job with this house,” she said.
In the background, Erik breathed into the mic and they all turned toward the stage to listen.
Kendry and Emma’s eyes met briefly. Kendry smiled warmly, just enough for Emma to notice.
“This is a new song,” Erik wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “So, I know you haven’t heard it before. But that doesn’t matter, you’re still going to sing it with me.”
He strolled to the edge of the stage. “Here’s what we’re going to do.” He bent toward the small crowd gathered at the front of the stage and took out his cell phone.
“I’m going to record each side of the audience singing just one note. You people over here,” he gestured. “You’re going to sing first, okay?”
People whooped and clapped.
“All you people over there.” He pointed at the other half of the audience. “You all just stay quiet for a second.” Groans. “You’re next,” he said encouragingly.
“What’s he doing?” Rob craned his neck to look.
Emma said nothing, just waited to see what happened next.
“Okay,” said Erik, pushing buttons on his phone. “Now, all you people here I want you to sing one note. It’s an F and it sounds like this.” He struck the note on his keyboard a few times. People chimed in, held the note until it stabilized.
“Great!” said Erik, holding up his phone. “Hold that. Keep it going for as long as you can.” He held his phone out and recorded them.
They sang and the single note hung in the air, the volume rising and falling as people lost and regained breath.
“Okay, great job.” Erik beamed. “Now all you people over there, you’re going to sing a G sharp.” He demonstrated on the piano and the other half of the audience sang as he recorded.
He looked at his phone. “You want to hear what you sound like together?”
People clapped and cheered while Erik briefly fiddled with his phone and held it to the microphone. The two halves of the audience now sang together, with an eerie dissonance that kept going in an endless loop, longer than any natural human breath ever could.
Erik took a seat behind his piano. “Okay, this song is for someone special. It’s called ‘Lapse’.”
Erik’s piano wove in and out of the audience recording. Some people added their live voices to the chorus.
Rob moved closer to Emma and they watched their son moving dials on the mixing board.
“The world’s a big place,” said Rob. “How’s he going to go out there?”
His eyes narrowed. “Well, what is it?”
Emma’s face got tense and contorted; she couldn’t blink away the tears.
“Oh, Christ,” said Rob. “Is it what I think it is?”
She looked at him, swallowed her bottom lip and nodded.
“Oh, fuck, Emma.” He put his hand to his forehead as if he had a headache. “Why, Emma. Why would you do that?”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know.” She blew her nose. “No. That’s not true.” She balled up the paper towel and dabbed her nose with it. “I do know why.” She cleared her throat. “I did it because I wanted to.”
“Emma.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Who was it? Someone I know?”
“No.”
“Well, who then?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It fucken does!”
“We were on a break. And why do you even care, Rob?”
“Because I care! What the fuck are you talking about?”
She swallowed. “We don’t talk anymore, we don’t do things together, we never have sex.”
“Oh, please,” he looked away.
“We don’t.”
“Well, what the fuck, Emma, do you have any idea—”
“How busy I am. Yes! I’ve heard that. You’re very busy.”
“Hey,” Rob moved in close. “Don’t try and turn this on me. You’re the one who’s been fucking around!”
“Fucked one person Rob, yes! And you know what, I’m not sorry. I’m sorry you’re upset but I’m not sorry it happened. I’m grateful.”
“Well, glad you’re happy—”
“It was great. I’ll be honest, Rob.” He turned away again. “It was. I felt sexy and desired and alive.”
“I don’t want to hear this.”
“You never have heard it.” He glanced over his shoulder, annoyed. “Never,” she repeated. “You never wanted to talk. About anything. Never wanted to do anything, go anywhere or try anything new. I got tired of waiting, Rob.”
He turned away. “Waiting for what?”
“To live.” She moved closer, his back still turned. “I’m not saying I want to be with that person. Build a life with them.”
“Well, great. No issues, then.”
“Rob.”
“What?” He turned around, his face pouty.
“Are you really mad about this, or do you just you think you should be?”
He looked at her, hard, then broke his gaze, his attention drawn to the table he’d built. Rob walked over to the table and put both hands on its surface. He leaned down, his head lowered between his shoulders.
“Rob,” said Emma softly.
His shoulders trembled and he sniffed. “Fuck,” he brought his fist down on the table and pulled it back instantly. “Ow.” He turned, cradling his hand and rubbing his wrist. He winced and eased himself onto the floor.
Emma crouched and sat next to him. She put an arm around his shoulder. He leaned into her and rested his head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
He shook his head, wiped his eyes. “It’s fucking embarrassing.”
“What, crying?”
He nodded.
“You think this is the first time I’ve seen you cry?”
He took a deep breath, wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand. “When?”
“Christ, when not?” She squeezed his arm. “I know where you go. Out in your shed when you’ve had a few too many and you get all sentimental.”
He dragged his sleeve under his nose.
“You only think you’re hiding,” she said.
He smiled, sniffed.
“Crying sober, though, that’s progress.”
He looked up at the pitched roof of the shed where cobwebs hung like tassels. “John Williamson.” He clicked his tongue. “Gets me every time.”
“True Blue.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and hummed a few bars of the song.
Rob squeezed her arm.
Emma squeezed back. “I’m not trying to get rid of you, you old fart.” She patted his hand. “I love you. You’re family. Nothing’s going to change that.” She sat up, looked at him. “I want you to be a part of my life. I want to know that I can call you if I need to talk, or work something out. I want us to keep being parents, together. But I also know I don’t want to go back to the way it was. I love you. I do. But I don’t want to live together like we used to. I don’t know what our day-to-day looks like yet but it’s going to be different.”
He sniffed, cleared his throat.
She touched his knee. “You act so gruff. What if everyone knew you were just a big softie.”
He snorted and wiped his nose with his sleeve.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said. “We’ll work it out. We’re lucky, you know. We’ve got options. You see that, right?”
He nodded.
“It’s going to be better, Rob. For both of us.”
She hugged him and he held her, longer than he ever had.
They sat side-by-side next to the dining room table. Emma reached over and picked up the splintered handle of a hatchet, held it in front of her face. “My god,” she said. “You gave that a good go.” She smiled and glanced at the table over her head. “That’s one hell of a table.”
He smiled. “Fucken hell it is.”
She laughed, put her arm around his shoulder. “I love it.” She pulled him close and kissed him on the cheek.
Chapter Forty-One
The listing party for the stone house was in full swing. The solid building stood vigil on acres of freshly cut lawn. Glimpses of Bass Strait played peekaboo through hedges and reflections of pink granite flashed off polished glass.
People milled about the grounds taking selfies as Erik played guitar on a small stage near the front of the house. Young people with no hope of buying real estate were there too. It all made for good photos, said the photographer from the Home Design magazine.
Will was at the mixing board while Aaron stood near the stage, dressed in a crisp white shirt and black cut-off shorts, his bear tattoo sniffing the sea air.
Erik finished his song. “Geez,” said Rob, leaning toward Emma. “That fella’s alright. He’s no Tom Petty, but he’s pretty good.”
Emma smiled to herself and someone tapped her shoulder. “Mish! Oh my god, you made it.” Mish came in for a hug. “This is my husband, Rob,” said Emma, over Mish’s shoulder.
“Nice to meet you.” Mish shook Rob’s hand.
“I’ll let you two catch up,” he said, spying Syed walking alone on the freshly mowed lawns.
“So, how you been?” said Mish.
“It’s been weird.”
“I bet. Are things okay between you guys?”
“I think so. Feels like we’re moving into something new.”
“You guys separating then?”
Emma made a face like she was thinking about it. “I don’t know what we’d call it. I’m going to live in town, he’s going to live here.”
“Oh wow.”
“Yeah, it’s better that way.”
“Well, that sounds good. Hey, tough break about the Haimon Young job.”
Emma crinkled her nose. “That place wasn’t for me.”
Mish nodded. “Well, I’m kinda glad you said that, because I have a question.”
“Oh?”
“I’m quitting Catch. That place is a shithole.”
Emma chortled. “Well, you know what I think of it.”
“Oh, it’s a fucking mess. And the way they treated you was shitty. You deserved better.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll be honest. I want you to work with me.”
“What?”
“I’m starting my own recruitment company. Specifically for migrant women. It’s LinkedIn meets Fiver, for immigrants. Angie’s coming too.”
“Wow!” said Emma. “I had no idea.”
“Well, you had other things going on,” she said. “I want you to be my comms person.” She touched Emma’s arm. “Comms director, chief, whatever title you want.”
“Oh, no,” said Emma. “I’m flattered, but you want somebody…better.”
“Don’t be stupid. I want you. You’re, and I mean this in the nicest way, you’re old school.”
“Thanks.”
“What I mean is you’re a purist, you take pride in your work. Plus, you’re fun. I think you’ll get along with the team I’m putting together.”
Emma smiled then nibbled her lip. “Can I have some time to think about it? There’s just been so much—”
“Of course.” Mish put her hand on Emma’s shoulder. “We’re launching in six months. We haven’t told Jarod yet. We’re waiting until it hurts him the most.”
Mish and Emma looked at each other and grinned. “Annual report time,” they said together and laughed.
“What a dipstick,” Mish sighed.
Emma laughed. “You know what? Fuck it! Yes! I don’t have to think about it. I’m in.”
“Really?”
Emma hugged Mish. “I’m so glad people like you exist.”
“What do you mean?”
“People doing stuff. Trying to make things better.”
“I only have a business plan and a website, let’s not get too excited.”
“You know what I mean.” Emma pulled back. “You’re shaping the world around you instead of the other way round. That’s great. Gives me hope.”
“Thanks.” Mish blushed.
“Champagne?” Emma motioned to the trestle table on the lawn.
“Fuck yeah.”
Rob reached Syed who was taking an unusual interest in the long, wide hedge near the cliff, crouching down, patting the ground with his palms. “You could put a pool here,” said Syed, standing up, dusting off his hands. “Ground looks good. What do you think?” Syed pointed at the hearty shrubs that served as a windbreak. “Rip this out and put pool here?” Syed grinned.
“Anything’s possible.” Rob smiled.
“The band is nice.” Syed scanned the crowd appreciatively. “Get buyers interested.”
“About that.”
“Hmm?” Syed squinted.
“The buyer,” said Rob. “You’re looking at him.”
“Us,” said Sareena, beaming as she joined them.
Syed looked incredulous. “You can’t afford that. Can you?”
“Not separately,” said Sareena. “But we can if we subdivide.”
Syed shook his head. “Bad idea. Risky. The money’s in the land.”
“Nah, mate,” said Sareena. “It’s not just about making money. The value is in what we can do with the land.”
“Ah,” Syed mocked. “A master plan.” He spread out his ringed fingers and wiggled them.
“Rob can have the house,” said Sareena. “And then that part over there” – she turned and swept her finger across the level terrain of an adjacent field – “we turn that into an office and a trade school.”
“She wants to change the building industry.” Rob stuck his thumb out at Sareena. “Make it more sustainable.”
“And you are the one who helps her do this?” said Syed, looking at Rob.
“Well,” said Emma, walking toward them. Syed shielded his eyes to look at Emma’s silhouette coming down the hill. “I figure,” said Emma, “if you want to beat the competition in this trade, it’s probably good to know what makes ’em tick.” Rob smiled and held out his hand to help Emma down the grassy slope.
Syed looked at Emma. “You like this idea?”
Emma smiled. “I like it when everyone gets something.”
“Hmmm.” Syed moved his head from side to side as if considering the proposal. “I have other buyers.” He looked at the ground and nodded slowly. “And I think maybe I keep it for myself.”
“That’s bullshit, Sy.” Kendry’s voice shot from the top of the hill.
Emma turned. “Ken, you came.”
“Of course I came.” She fluffed up her hair. “I’m not going to miss a kick-ass housewarming with all my favorite people.” She turned to Sareena and stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Kendry.”
“Sareena.”
They shook hands.
“Geez,” Kendry said, looking Sareena up and down. “You’re a tall drink of water, aren’t you?”
Sareena blushed. “You too.”
“Now,” said Kendry, turning to Syed. She hunched over theatrically and rubbed her hands together. “Where were we? Oh yes.” She snapped her finger and pointed at Syed. “You were playing hard ball.”
Syed furrowed his bushy eyebrows and looked up at the sky. “These are nice ideas, but…”
“Here it comes,” said Kendry, smiling, all her teeth showing.
Syed put his hand on his chin. “Well, it’s not what I had in mind.”
Kendry cleared her throat. “Okay. So, you have a chance to make” – she pointed at everyone as she counted – “one, two, three, four, at least four people happy. Plus make off with what I assume is a shit-ton of money, all while kickstarting a new business and saving the building industry. Sounds like a good deal to me.”
“Ken,” said Rob, but Emma put her hand on his shoulder.
“Syed,” said Kendry. “Look around.” Everyone turned their heads and took in the scene. The rolling green hills, crawling with people, the rubberneckers and prospective buyers, the band, the lifestyle magazine, the photographer taking pictures. “You already got what you really wanted. Publicity. Legitimacy. Your name’s out there. Congratulations, you’re a player. It doesn’t really matter who buys the house. Unless it’s Hugh Jackman or Kylie Minogue. Are they here?” She pretended to look for them.
Syed squinted, the trace of a smile growing on his face.
“What if,” said Sareena, turning to Syed. “What if, once we get the trade school up and running, we can work something out? Maybe we could send our best people your way and you give ’em a leg up. That’d be win-win, no? What do you think?”
“Yeah, Sy.” Kendry rubbed her hands together. “Synergies. Does that sweeten the deal?”
He tilted his head from side to side. “What about you two?” he said, jutting his chin at Rob and Sareena.
“What about us?” said Sareena, with mock indignance. “You can’t afford us,” she smiled.
“I’m done with housing estates, mate,” said Rob.
Syed nodded slowly.
“How about this…” Sareena steepled her fingers. “You come across a cool project, something heritage, and we promise to look at it. And if we take it on, we’ll kick it back to you, but we get full control of the build and use our people.”
“Oh zing,” said Kendry.”
Syed stood there, head bobbing, considering the proposal. “Market price?” He pointed at the stone house in the distance.
“Minus five percent,” said Sareena. “Because I know you. You put a margin on everything.”
Syed laughed and rubbed his chin. He looked at Rob. “You sure?”
Rob nodded.
Syed looked at Sareena, stuck out his hand and walked toward her. “Deal,” he said, and shook her hand.
“Huzzah!” Kendry pumped her fists.
Emma looked at Rob. He seemed softer somehow, his gaze less penetrating. “I’m happy for you,” she said, and his face reddened like a little boy.
“Thanks,” he said, still blushing.
Emma smiled and gave Rob a hug, resting her head on the soft warmth of his chest. He squeezed her, rubbed her back, held her there, sinking into the moment. “You did an amazing job with this house,” she said.
In the background, Erik breathed into the mic and they all turned toward the stage to listen.
Kendry and Emma’s eyes met briefly. Kendry smiled warmly, just enough for Emma to notice.
“This is a new song,” Erik wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “So, I know you haven’t heard it before. But that doesn’t matter, you’re still going to sing it with me.”
He strolled to the edge of the stage. “Here’s what we’re going to do.” He bent toward the small crowd gathered at the front of the stage and took out his cell phone.
“I’m going to record each side of the audience singing just one note. You people over here,” he gestured. “You’re going to sing first, okay?”
People whooped and clapped.
“All you people over there.” He pointed at the other half of the audience. “You all just stay quiet for a second.” Groans. “You’re next,” he said encouragingly.
“What’s he doing?” Rob craned his neck to look.
Emma said nothing, just waited to see what happened next.
“Okay,” said Erik, pushing buttons on his phone. “Now, all you people here I want you to sing one note. It’s an F and it sounds like this.” He struck the note on his keyboard a few times. People chimed in, held the note until it stabilized.
“Great!” said Erik, holding up his phone. “Hold that. Keep it going for as long as you can.” He held his phone out and recorded them.
They sang and the single note hung in the air, the volume rising and falling as people lost and regained breath.
“Okay, great job.” Erik beamed. “Now all you people over there, you’re going to sing a G sharp.” He demonstrated on the piano and the other half of the audience sang as he recorded.
He looked at his phone. “You want to hear what you sound like together?”
People clapped and cheered while Erik briefly fiddled with his phone and held it to the microphone. The two halves of the audience now sang together, with an eerie dissonance that kept going in an endless loop, longer than any natural human breath ever could.
Erik took a seat behind his piano. “Okay, this song is for someone special. It’s called ‘Lapse’.”
Erik’s piano wove in and out of the audience recording. Some people added their live voices to the chorus.
Rob moved closer to Emma and they watched their son moving dials on the mixing board.
“The world’s a big place,” said Rob. “How’s he going to go out there?”
