21

Despite promising myself that I’m going to play it supercool when Dan calls from his mum’s place, I jump when the phone rings.

“I can’t believe you’re bailing on us,” says Steph when I answer. “What gives?”

“Sorry, but I have to … it’s enforced family bonding time.” I lower my voice so that Mum won’t hear. She’s already told me not to stay home tonight on her account, since she’ll probably flake straight after dinner.

“So it’s not because you’d rather be alone with Dan?” Steph sounds suspicious.

“Definitely not,” I assure her. “Dan’s not even here. He left this morning to visit his mum.”

“And you can’t have a good time because your boyfriend’s not going to be there? Isn’t being with your best friends enough to make up for that?” Steph’s voice rises as she gets worked up.

“Of course it is, it’s just … look, Vicky and I had a sort of … thing, yesterday.”

I tell Steph what happened at the zoo, sticking to the facts and trying not to say anything that could be construed as bitching. “I know Vix probably didn’t mean to upset me, but I just don’t feel up to a night of hearing more fun facts about cancer.”

“That’s just Vicky’s way of dealing with things,” says Steph. “Facts are her security blanket; they help to avoid dealing with feelings. I’m sure she was only giving you the information that she’d want to have if it was her mum who had cancer.”

“Maybe, but I still couldn’t handle any more of it.”

“Fine, suit yourself.”

I don’t blame Steph for being narked with me. I try to make it clear that she’s not the one I’m avoiding by asking if she wants to see a movie together.

“Sure,” she says, but she hangs up without making a date.

I reboot the computer to check what movies are showing. If I can find something that I know Steph will love and email her about it straightaway, it might make up for leaving her in the lurch tonight. When I open my email there’s a message from Vicky saying that the twins’ babysitter has cancelled and she has to stay home tonight, too. I guess it’s not impossible.

I decide a ride might help ease my nagging sense of guilt about wrecking Vicky and Steph’s night, so I take the remains of the brownies to Switch for Jay to taste test. I guess I may have subconsciously been in need of some beagle time, because I tell him about what happened with Vicky before he’s even swallowed his first bite.

“I can understand why you’re upset,” he says when I finish ranting, “but I think Steph’s probably right about Vicky’s motives. I remember when Mum was sick and her friends used to come by to see her and drop off casseroles and make sure I hadn’t burned the house down while I was meant to be looking after her. After seeing Mum they’d always stop to chat to me and say things like, ‘She’s definitely on the mend,’ and ‘I’m sure she’ll be fine,’ and I’d just want to say to them, ‘What the hell do you know?’ The worst was when I’d bump into someone on the street and they’d say, ‘How’s your mum?’ I mean, what do you say to that? ‘She’s ace, thanks, except for the disease that’s trying to kill her’?”

While Jay speaks, I find myself nodding and nodding. It’s a relief to hear that I’m not the only one who doesn’t appreciate people trying to be nice to them.

“These are amazing, by the way.” Jay points to the brownie with his fork. “It’s like chocolate and peanut butter made love and had a baby delicious. I reckon I can sell two dozen a week, if you can keep up the supply.”

“Really? And you like the icing?”

“Oh yeah! It’s the icing that makes it. If it was all cake and peanut butter, it might be a bit dry, don’t you think?” Jay takes my “hmmm” as an agreement. “Of course you do, otherwise you wouldn’t have iced them. Genius!” He scrapes his fork across the plate to get every last crumb. “I’m going to take the rest of these bad boys home with me. They might make being away from Nicky on New Year’s Eve a bit less miserable.”

I tell him that Dan’s not coming home either and we commiserate over another brownie before I have to head off. (He’s right about the icing. I’ll have to think of a sneaky way to get Gran’s recipe before she goes.) When I get back on my bike I feel much, much better. Just because tonight isn’t going to be the New Year’s Eve of my dreams doesn’t mean that the coming year will definitely be a washout. After all, I spent last New Year’s Eve at home and this year turned out way better than I could ever have imagined.

I ride through the big iron gates of the park and pull up at Our Tree, taking a moment to make sure DTF still +s FL before sitting on the grass underneath it and scrounging in the bottom of my bag for a pen and paper. After a minute, I come up with a stumpy pencil and the back of a receipt. They don’t exactly set the tone for successful resolution making, but I figure it’s what I do after I write my resolutions that counts, not what they look like.

New Year’s resolutions

I will be a good friend.

I will keep Hysterical Girlfriend at bay, or at least well hidden.

I will be a better daughter.

I review the list before I get up to go. It seems doable. I mean, all it comes down to is Be Nice and Stop Whingeing. As long as Mum doesn’t get any new ideas from Dr Phil, it should be a piece of cake.

“Hey, you.”

I can hardly hear Dan over the loud music in the background, something with an ish-ish-ish drum machine and electro-synthesised vocals. “Where are you? Have they locked you in a small dark room with that noise as punishment for something?”

Dan laughs. “Nah, Kristy’s trying to enlighten me about the joys of dance music before the party tonight.”

In the mirror above the hallstand I catch sight of my tight-lipped grimace and try to smooth it out before I speak. “Who’s Kristy?”

“Steve’s daughter. She’s here for the uni holidays. She’s pretty cool considering she’s spawn of Stepdag.”

“She must be pretty persuasive, too, if she’s got you listening to dance music.”

More laughter. “I didn’t say it was working. Hang on, I’ll go outside where I can hear you properly.”

I hang on. I practise the calming breathing Mr Naidoo taught us before the exams. I repeat my Hysterical Girlfriend resolution over and over in my head until I hear a door slam and Dan says, “That’s better.”

“So, there’s a party tonight?”

“Yeah, on Stepdag’s boat, sorry yacht. He’s invited some of his golfing buddies and their kids. Kristy and I are in charge of making sure the dance floor’s full at all times.”

“You, listening to dance music? Dancing to dance music? Have you gone insane from all that fresh sea air?”

“Yeah, well, it’s either that or sit on the beach, drinking goon with the local youth, who haven’t exactly welcomed me with open arms. Are you all set for the picnic?”

“Change of plan – Mum’s home so I’m staying in.” I try to keep my voice light, like it’s no big deal, but my throat tightens with every word. “At least this way we can still be together at midnight, even if it’s just over the phone.”

The pause before Dan speaks again is probably only seconds, but it feels like a long, empty silence. Long enough for me to anticipate what he’s going to say, anyway.

“Geez, I’m sorry, Fray, but I don’t think I’ll get a phone signal out on the water. I can try to convince Steve to let me use his emergency satellite phone, if you really want me to.”

I really want you to. I really, really want you to. I want you to more than I want to be a world famous brownie entrepreneur, more than I want Gran and Rocky to get out of my room and go home, more than I want a lock on my bedroom door … “No, that’s okay. I understand.”

“And that’s why I love you! I told Kristy you’d be cool about it.”

I don’t hear the rest of what he says. Something about whale watching or trail walking or tail twitching. I can’t make out the exact words because of the echoing in my ears. And that’s why I love you … Why I love you … I love you.

“Fray? You still there?”

“What? Sorry, there was some static on the line.”

“I said, I’d better go and make sure Kristy doesn’t try to sneak anything from the Top Thirty onto the playlist. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Have a happy new year.”

“You too. Think of me at midnight.”