“Maybe later,” he said.
I pulled my cherry red food processor out of the bottom cupboard and sat it on the bench, emptying out the packet of biscuits I’d ripped open.
“Well maybe just a biscuit,” he said, rescuing one from imminent massacre and shovelling it in his face.
I smacked at his hand before proceeding to switch the processor on and watch the biscuits rapidly become a pile of rubble before my eyes.
“You making your slice?” he asked around a mouthful of biscuit.
“Yes I am, Detective Hussy. You coming to the barbecue?”
“Fuck yeah.”
This was not a surprise. Barbecued food was hot on our list of must eat items. I emptied the rubble of biscuits into a bowl and opened a tin of condensed milk.
“Mac said her mum invited half of Sydney last night,” he leaned over to flip on the kettle. “So did you and Jared have the talk?” he asked, obviously wanting the low down on what happened after he and Mac vacated the bedroom.
“There was nothing to talk about.” Well nothing Jared was prepared to talk about until I was ready, but I wasn’t willing to share that little gem with Henry. It would only encourage him.
He rolled his eyes in obvious frustration. “Chook, I may not be Dr. Love, but it’s obvious to even me, the retarded relationship bastard, that you and Jared have a thing.”
This was true, the part about Henry being a retarded relationship bastard. Henry had broken a heart or a million in his time (pick a number somewhere in between) because his struggle with the concept of commitment was an ongoing one. In his defence, he was always upfront about his unwillingness to commit.
He spooned sugar into two mugs as I began to press the biscuit base into the slice pan.
“Henry, does either Wild Renny or Asshole Kellar ring a bell? I’m not going there again.”
“Jared is hardly in the same league as those two losers.”
“They weren’t complete losers, Henry.”
Henry raised one eyebrow at me as I moved to the fridge.
“Okay, well maybe Asshole Kellar was, but his car wasn’t. Wild Renny was just misunderstood, you know. I wonder what he’s doing now?”
Henry handed me a mug of tea along with a warning. “Wild Renny is out of your life, Evie. I don’t want you thinking about him or wondering anything about him. Clear?”
Henry liked to act like the big bossy brother sometimes, and on this particular subject, I usually allowed it because alongside Coby, he was the one who helped pick up the pieces when my life had spiralled out of control.
I pulled him in for a soothing hug, knowing the memories made him tense and angry.
“I’m clear, Henry.”
He squeezed me tight before pulling away, nodding and moving to the couch indicating he wanted to watch music videos.
I finished making my slice, popped it in the fridge to set, made a pile of vegemite toast, and joined Henry. I promptly ate the pile of toast and passed out.
A message from Mac woke me up as I lay drooling all over Henry’s chest with a piece of vegemite toast mashed into my face.
M: Have you left yet? If you don’t leave now, you’re gonna be late, asshead!
“Shit, Henry, wake up!”
Henry was lying on his back, lightly snoring into a cushion. I shoved his shoulder. When he didn’t move, I shoved harder and he accidentally went off the edge of the couch. I winced when his head bounced off the floor with a crack.
“Evie. What the fuck?”
I lifted my chin up in challenge. I didn’t mean to crack his head, but I had to roll with it now. “I tried for ages to wake you,” I lied.
Henry pounced and we wrestled on the floor like ten year olds. Henry knew all my best moves, and because of my aversion to defeat, I retreated, leaping off him and racing for the stairs instead. I needed to wash my face now that I had vegemite smeared up the side of my cheek.
Henry, realising my intentions, raced passed me on the stairs and shoved into my shoulder so that I stumbled. I should have remembered that move because he surged ahead, flew into the bathroom, and slammed the door.
“Damn you, Henry,” I shouted.
I changed into a pair of hot pink capris and a black singlet top, and because it was hot, pulled my hair into a knot of curls at the nape of my neck. Sliding my feet into black flip flops, I was ready to go, and we were only ten minutes late by the time I parked my Hilux in front of Steve and Jenna’s house. Coby had bought me the car for my birthday two years ago. It was a double-cab with turbo diesel in tidal blue and kicked car ass. In addition to kicking car ass, it also helped cart around musical equipment when needed while still making me feel like I owned the road just a little, which was extremely satisfying.
Steve and Jenna’s house in Balmain was a renovated two storey rendered brick affair with bright green, well-tended shrubbery and a giant wall of jasmine vine currently in bloom along either side of the house. Apparently, the barbecue had just hit full swing if the amount of cars parked in the driveway and street were anything to go by.
I tilted my head to glare at Frog and Cooper through the rear view mirror.
“Cooper,” I growled.
“Sandwich,” he drawled with a grin.
“Do I look like I need a seeing eye dog?”
I threw up my hands in defeat when no one was willing to meet my eyes, but half the missing slice and coconut crumbed lips told the story that no one needed to verbalise. The boys were like hoovers when it came to food; nothing was safe.
I opened the car door, jumped out, and slammed it shut. As the four of us congregated on the lawn, I snatched the plate of slice out of Frog’s pilfering hands and shoved it at Henry.
“You all better be on your best behaviour,” I hissed and pointed my finger for extra emphasis. “This is Mac’s mum’s place.”
Frog offered a wink. “You can trust us.”
“Said the spider to the fly,” I muttered under my breath as we made our way to the front door.
Cooper and Frog, named simply because his full name was Jason Froggatt, presented a united front behind me. They were close. I liked to joke that if they had a song, Queen’s You’re my Best Friend would be it, and if they didn’t love women so much, they’d try their best to turn g*y for each other. They even looked alike: Frog barely an inch taller than Cooper’s five foot eleven, silky black hair that fell into their eyes, and golden tanned skin. Though Cooper's eyes were so dark they appeared black, and Frog’s were a light hazel. They even dressed alike in their skinny jeans and tight faded Silverchair or Wolfmother t-shirts.
Cooper grew up in Melbourne and transferred to our uni, joining our band when our previous keyboardist of six months quit due to creative differences. Cooper spoke fluent keyboard like we’d never seen and had moved into Frog and Jake’s apartment across the hall from ours two weeks later.
Fast friends, they saw each other through a bad break up or two, which included an epic public showdown between Frog and his then girlfriend Rachel. That relationship lasted a whole year before they had a split so publicly volatile it was the talk of uni campus for two weeks, not including the week the breakup dragged on for. Frog remained tight-lipped, but it became public knowledge that she cheated on him. Frog, being wild and crazy and a rule bender, was popular at uni. This made Rachel very unpopular, and three months later, she packed her bags and transferred back home.
One month after that, Coopers girlfriend Natalie copped a mugging and a black eye, blamed Cooper for it in the twisted way that Natalie managed to blame everyone for everything bad that happened in her life, and dumped him on his ass.
No one had ever liked Natalie and the feeling was mutual, so seeing the back of her earned Cooper a one week supply of free alcohol at the uni bar. We would have made it longer, but if you knew how much he could put away you would understand.
At our knock, we heard a voice yell that the door was open. Jenna came out of the kitchen at our arrival, rushing over to envelop me in a sweet smelling hug. I hugged back―hard because I’d missed her. Both she and Steve had visited us in Melbourne every chance they got, and Mac and I would take her shopping on Chapel Street, my favourite place to spend money.
“Genevieve, honey...” she palmed both of my cheeks in her hands “...how are you?”
She looked into my eyes, concern filling her gaze because Jenna was always a mother first. She was sharp and capable, kept herself toned with regular yoga, and wore her blonde hair in a neat bob. She was also pushing for grandkids harder than a drill sergeant on a recruitment drive. With all the Valentine offspring currently unattached, it wasn’t looking good for her. Without waiting for my reply, her green eyes gleamed as she leaned in. “Jared is out back, honey. You should go say hello.”
She winked at me meaningfully, and I knew she’d been apprised of recent events between Jared and me. It appeared Mac had been busily recruiting while I had my eye off the ball. This did not bode well.
She reached around me to pull Henry into a hug.
“Hey, honey, how are you?”
“Uh, good thanks, Mrs Valentine,” Henry managed.
“Jenna, please, honey.” She took the proffered plate out of Henry’s hands. “Oh, are these for us? You know how much everyone loves this slice, Evie.” She smiled at me kindly, obviously remembering I made it for them in honour of their first visit to our Melbourne apartment.
“Well, half of it's gone now, thanks to banana one and two there.” I rolled my eyes towards Frog and Cooper.
She raised one eyebrow in a mock glare. “Well. None for them later then,” she said, putting the slice down on the kitchen counter to grab them both in a hug.
“Hi, Mrs Valentine,” they both mumbled.
“Jenna, please,” she addressed them. “Go get your butts outside. Steve is manning the barbecue, and the esky is by the big table,” she called out as we headed outside.
The yard was half tiled with thick sandstone, and the other half had a lush green lawn with Jenna's prized vegie patch running along the side of the fence. A rectangle pool sat to the left, surrounded by a clear perspex fence, and was half covered under a big cream coloured shade sail. The water rippled invitingly in the early afternoon sun, and a heated game of water volleyball was going on. A bikini clad Mac was smack bang in the middle of a Hot Guy Volleyball Sandwich and looked as though she was in no hurry to rectify the situation.
“Genevieve!” Steve called out and made his way over, waving his tongs about through the throng of people as Henry, Frog, and Cooper made for the esky. He grabbed me in a big hug, lifting me off my feet, and I shivered with delight because Steve was the big gruff dad I never had. Once again, I squeezed back hard.
“You look beautiful, my girl,” he said, indicating my outfit.
“Thanks, Steve. How's it going?”
“Good, good, apart from the fact that Jenna invited half of Sydney,” he muttered covertly, though I could see the twinkle in his eye. He loved entertaining since his retirement from the force, living for the weekends when he could crank up the barbecue. We chatted for a moment on recent current events; Steve liked to follow the World News religiously and felt it was his duty to then inform everyone else.